BSG Too High a Cost
by Mariel3
Summary: William Adama is a changed man. AR, Kara, Lee, Helo, Sharon. Oh, and Cottle. Can't forget Cottle...
1. Truths

This is going to be a little different. I've heard rumours about the changes in Adama for this upcoming season, and I'm not sure I like them, but as with anything I guess I'll have to wait and see. Not being good at waiting, however, I've decided to amuse myself by going in another direction. This is my take on how William Adama would react under a certain set of circumstances - and how the people around him would in turn react to _him_... It's going to take a while to complete: I've only plotted the rest of the story, and it will take a while to get it written properly and posted because life is about to get busier...Huge dollops of patience will probably be required.

As always, your thoughts are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I own a few things, but anything BSG related ain't among them...

**Too High a Cost  
**By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 1**

_**Truths**_

Colonel Tigh finished speaking and looked at the group gathered in the President's office on _Colonial One_. President Roslin, Admiral Adama, and several members of the Quorum had listened wordlessly as he'd presented the mission as it now stood.

No one, he thought, seemed particularly pleased - not even the President, and it was _her_ plan.

Standing behind her desk, Roslin drew her brows together in concern. "They'll have to be very careful."

From his position in one of the flight chairs, Admiral Adama looked at the President of the Twelve Colonies. Shaking his head, he spoke for the first time since the meeting had begun.

"Careful is the one thing they can't be; not if your mission is going to succeed."

Roslin's green eyes narrowed slightly and she pressed her lips together tightly at the Admiral's use of the word _'your'_, but she said nothing. Hell, she was surprised he'd spoken at all.

Tigh nodded in agreement with his commanding officer. "They need to go in fast, do their search, and get the hell out of there as quickly as they can. Finesse isn't going to be something they'll have the luxury of."

Although she knew the answer, Roslin asked, "And if they're detected?"

Tigh's eyes flicked over the Quorum leaders, then settled on the President. "Excuse my language, but if they're detected, they're well and truly frakked," he said in a gruff tone. Unable to resist showing his opposition to this mission and the reasons for in any way possible, he continued, "This is Kobol we're talking about, remember. According to your scriptures, their odds of coming back aren't good as it is. Something about a price exacted in blood, if I remember correctly. By my count, since there's only two of them, that means each has a fifty-fifty chance of surviving, right? Of course, if they're spotted by the cylons, they're as good as dead anyways." Looking at the Admiral, he stopped himself from voicing further negative comments. Early on, Bill had ordered him to cease and desist with his opposition.

"_Saul, just shut up about it_," was what he'd actually said.

He'd done his best to do so, but it hadn't been easy. He still had no idea how Bill managed to sit there and take it.

The Colonel shot a glance at the President. He had to admit the woman was smart: her going behind Adama's back and eliciting both Lee and Kara's promise to participate before bringing the plan to the Admiral's attention had been brilliant. The unspoken threat that if he didn't agree, they would do it anyway had lain very solidly behind her presentation. Knowing that, Bill had withdrawn still further into the stony shell of a man he had become and refused to make any comment on it at all.

Saul shook his head. He'd never understood Roslin's power of persuasion when it came to Lee and Kara, but it sure as hell bothered him that they would betray the Old Man the way they did any time she asked.

He'd never understood the President's perverse need to act behind his back, either.

When he'd learned what had taken place and what the crazy plan had been, Saul had silently waited for an explosion from Bill, or at least for some outward display of displeasure or anger. It had never come. Looking across the room at his friend and commanding officer, he grimaced. Torn between anger and sadness, Saul knew that the Admiral's lack of reaction was a telling sign of the man William Adama had become since the settlement on New Caprica.

It was a man he didn't even know any more.

-xxx-

Roslin almost winced at Tigh's terse evaluation of the situation Lee and Kara were going into. Wondering how the XO's words had affected Adama, she turned to gauge his reaction.

He sat like a piece of granite, his face expressionless. She took a moment to ponder how he did it. Here was a man who had once put the entire fleet at risk in a foolhardy, emotion-driven attempt to rescue Kara Thrace because he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her behind. Now, he was watching her, along with his one remaining son, go on a mission they had a good chance of not surviving. Not, of course, that she truly believed they wouldn't succeed. She was sure they would, though she'd have been a lot more confident had Bill lent his support...

And he sat there calmly, as emotionless as a stone. Hands folded in front of him, he looked in total control, with no glimmer of concern leaking through his façade.

It made her want to scream in frustration.

When she had first met him, (and it seemed like a lifetime ago) he had surprised her at times by the difference between the façade he presented to the world and his internal workings, but as she had come to know him better, she had been able to read him and had been confident that she knew what he was thinking and truly feeling.

Since humanity's escape from New Caprica and her resumption of the office of President, however, that was no longer the case.

She'd taken it almost for granted that, upon her return, they would recapture the relationship they'd developed before the colonisation of New Caprica. To her surprised dismay, however, it was a different, changed man she found in charge of the Fleet. Impassive and unresponsive, he had not seemed to notice her attempts at rapprochement either upon her arrival or since, and had silently let her know that their former intimacy would not be resumed.

He acted, in fact, as though it had never existed.

As time had passed, he had grown, if anything, even more withdrawn and emotionless. And although crisis after crisis had emerged since their escape from New Caprica to try his steely control, nothing to date had broken through it. Everything - catastrophic or trivial - was met with the same, flat, emotionless demeanour. He got the job done, and he got the job done well, but he did it alone and without any of the warmth or humanity that had appealed to so many and made working with him such a pleasure.

She found that change in him uncanny and frightening.

As she continued to look at him, she realised he had become something she had never known him to be...

Cold and distant.

And not just in appearance. The cold reserve he presented to the universe seemed to have seeped into the very core of him. The reason for this had never been made clear to her, and that, more than anything, caused her dismay. Before, she would have known. He would have shared whatever it was that had done this to him. They would have talked. She would have understood.

Stepping away slightly, she moved her attention to the others in the room. They were murmuring amongst themselves, but were all discreetly doing what she had just done: examining the Admiral. She knew they were all wishing for some reaction - not because they wanted to see weakness, but because they remembered who he had been, and wanted to see some sign of that man again...

They were destined for disappointment.

Sighing inwardly, she moved to adjourn the meeting. "Gentlemen, if that is all for now, perhaps we can get on with our other duties." She turned to Adama and said politely, "Admiral, if you could spare me a few more minutes?"

He inclined his head.

"Of course, Madame President."

Once the others had filed out, Laura Roslin looked at him and allowed some of the concern she felt for him show. Hoping to somehow reach him on a personal level, she slid into a chair opposite him and asked, "Are you okay with this?"

He moved his hands dismissively. Lifting hooded eyes to meet hers, he said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Madame President, my being 'okay' with this has no bearing on the matter. _You_ decided this mission was necessary. _You_ developed the plan. _You_ chose who would carry it out, and then _you_ presented it to me in such a manner as to let me know that my opposition to it would be of no consequence. It's a little late to ask for my reaction to it now."

"But you're not sure they can do it."

His eyes dropped to the floor and almost imperceptibly his shoulders tightened. He did not, however, respond.

That lack of response disturbed her. They had been lovers before the settlement on New Caprica had torn them apart. Working together professionally and personally had been something she had treasured. She had even thought she might be in love with him. Thinking of that time longingly, she surprised herself by asking, "Are you free later? Could you spare time to share dinner with me?" She paused, then said hesitantly, "It's been an awfully long time, Bill. I-" She stopped, unsure of what to say. She was lonely, she missed him - and she wanted back what they had lost.

Adama raised his eyes from the floor to look at her, his expression inscrutable. "Don't make matters worse than they already are, Laura."

Her eyes widened, and she recoiled slightly from his tone. Covering her reaction skilfully, she still pushed forward, saying what she was sure he would not refuse.

"I need someone to talk to, Bill," she said softly.

He looked at her. She appeared small and fragile, but he knew differently. She could betray on a whim and order death without a second thought. Talk? They'd done a lot of that, and all it had been was a cover for her hidden agendas.

His eyes hardened. In the few feet that separated them lay a chasm no amount of words could span. He was surprised she couldn't see it herself.

And then again, not surprised at all.

"I don't think that would be wise," he said stiffly.

Having expected an easy victory, his words again surprised her.

"There's something wrong with talking?" she asked.

"No; with my being the one you talk to."

A chill threaded its way down her spine. He had never refused the support of his presence when she had needed it; had never refused to talk over matters important to her...Their relationship had grown and deepened because of that. She'd thought it would be her way back to him, that he wouldn't be able to refuse...

"I don't understand," she said, feeling bewildered yet again by the changed man in front of her.

He looked at her with stony eyes. "No, you don't. And I'm not the one to explain it to you. You chose this path by yourself, Laura, and this time, you'll live with the results of travelling on it by yourself, as well. I can't help you rationalise the cost of your choices. Not any more."

She blinked at his assessment of the situation.

"Bill, it was never my intent-"

He broke into her words, his face finally showing a tightly-reined anger that frightened her with its controlled intensity.

His words were quietly spoken, but said with such vehemence that they resounded in her mind like a gun shot:

"Your intent has always been to do exactly what you want, the cost be damned. Don't act as though anything's changed now. You have fooled me in the past, but I will not allow you to do so again," he said harshly. "I don't know what your true intent is for this mission, but I will have none of it. The human cost of getting what you think you need means nothing to you. I will not be lulled into thinking you care about the havoc you leave in your path. Nor will I help you justify to yourself or others what you've done. I refuse to be your conscience any longer."

She looked at him, dismayed.

There was no mistaking the hatred that flared in his eyes.

End Chapter 1  
Too High a Cost


	2. Reflections

Here's chapter two. Thanks to everyone who dropped me a line to let me know their reaction to the first chapter. It's _very _much appreciated. This chapter is more slowly paced and given to people's perceptions ...As always, I hope it rings true. Your thoughts are welcomed - they help.

Disclaimer - I mean no harm. But the characters are just too much fun not to play with...

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 2**

_**Reflections...**_

Adama looked across at the President of the Twelve Colonies and saw not the woman he had once held in his arms and loved, but someone else entirely. After only weeks back in office, she had again conspired with others behind his back and taken a course she had known he would never agree to.

And, as was her habit, she had used people he cared about as her pawns.

Rising, he clasped his hands in front of him and silently looked down at her, his expression unreadable

The love he'd felt for her had been wasted emotion - she was not the woman he had believed her to be.

-xxx-

"_I refuse to be your conscience any longer..." _

With his words ringing in her ears, Laura looked up at him. "Bill, that can't be how you feel. Gods, we have to talk. When we escaped New Caprica- I knew you'd- " She hesitated, then tried, "I had no idea you felt-"

Adama looked at her coldly. What he felt, indeed. Where she was concerned, he'd learned that feelings were best kept out of things completely. Breaking into her words, he said, "Madame President, I believe we're finished here. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He unclasped his hands. "I'm sure you have better things to do with your time, as well."

Shocked and unable to think of a way to delay his departure, Roslin nodded.

When he was gone, the room's silence mocked her.

-xxx-

Saul Tigh stared at the Admiral curiously when he entered CIC.

"So, what did Roslin want?" he asked.

Adama drew to a stop at his XO's side. His face impassive, he looked up at the DRADIS screen.

"Forgiveness," he said curtly. "In case the mission fails."

Saul narrowed his eyes. _Forgiveness_. Adama was running on empty in that department.

"I assume she didn't get it."

A muscle moved in the Admiral's jaw.

"Never."

The second in command wasn't surprised by the stony response. He'd been among the first to observe the change in William Adama, and had taken pains to adjust to it. Since then, he'd been doing his best to soften the bitter edges his friend had developed during the sojourn on New Caprica.

His best efforts hadn't had much effect.

Bill continued on, doing his job and fulfilling his duty, but he had lost something fundamental, something so integral to his personality that when Saul looked at him, he knew he wasn't looking at the man he'd called friend for decades.

"She express any concerns?" Tigh asked.

"She has only one concern," Adama responded curtly, "and it's no different from what it's ever been."

Tigh grimaced. He'd hoped perhaps the two of them would eventually beat out some sort of detente. A sidelong glance at Bill, however, told him that wasn't likely to happen in the near future. You needed some sort of trust for that, and trust was another thing Bill was in short supply of. Especially where Roslin was concerned.

"So nothing's changed? It's all going ahead as they planned?"

Adama nodded, obviously tired of talking about it. "Unless she has something up her sleeve she's saving as a surprise."

The bitterness in his commanding officer's voice was plain to hear, and Tigh sighed. Considering the betrayals Bill had experienced, he was entitled to his feelings, but the man's withdrawal still perplexed him. He had yet to figure out a _specific _turning point. It hadn't been when he'd learned Kara's secret about Zak's death; it hadn't been after Roslin had betrayed his secret about Earth to get Kara to do her bidding; it hadn't been after Kara had stolen the cylon ship for Roslin, or after his son had mutinied, or even after Sharon had tried to assasinate him. He hadn't withdrawn when Roslin split the fleet and ran to Kobol, or when he'd come of out his coma to discover his XO had frakked up and instituted military rule and gotten people killed...

...it hadn't even happened when Roslin tried to rig an election and involved his own people...

Every one of those betrayals Bill had accepted, forgiven, and worked through. Every frakking time, he'd sorted things out, determined how to handle it, and made things right for everyone - all the while trusting that it wouldn't happen again. Moreover, he had continued to believe in and trust the very people who had betrayed him.

So what had been the final straw? What had caused this shift? Some event had turned William Adama into something new and wrong. There were no more displays of affection, no more dry remarks, no more requests for input or opinion. The warm connection he had always created with each person under his command was only a memory. William Adama now travelled alone, made his decisions alone, and, if he cared about anything, he no longer showed it. Ever. His trust in anyone was gone;

_Trust_.

Saul sighed inwardly. There wasn't much of that around here these days.

Still standing beside the Admiral, Tigh looked around at the people working in CIC. It had been four months since they had returned and been met with the change in their commanding officer. He knew they all mourned the loss of the man they had known, and there wasn't a damned person present who didn't continue to hope and pray for his return.

His eyes turned towards Bill and noted the set of his scarred features.

He had a sinking feeling they never would.

-xxx-

Kara stood in the core looking down at the quiet activity in CIC. She'd seen Adama enter and had seen his severe expression as he'd responded to something Tigh had said to him. She wanted to cry. He always looked like that now. Cold, remote, contained... Even with his best friend, he didn't let down his icy reserve.

She stared at him, wondering where it had all gone so wrong. He'd always had an authoritative, forbidding air about him, but it had always been balanced by a very warm regard for the people around him. That regard was gone now. Since returning to the _Galactica,_she'd looked for the man she'd left twelve months earlier, desperately trying to find some glimmer of him beneath the façade that now called itself Adama. She missed his warmth and affection; missed the knowing looks and the humour and the talks, and the occasional kick in the ass when she needed it. When she had failed to find the man who had provided all those things for her, she had felt in turn hurt, angry, and confused.

She still cycled through those emotions regularly.

And now she had betrayed him, and had to live with that.

Again.

Days ago, she'd caught up with him in a corridor and tried to apologise and explain what had happened.

He'd refused the apology with a flat stare that had frightened her. No gentle look of understanding accompanied by a touch to her hair. No hug. No kiss on the forehead.

No forgiveness.

"_Leave it alone, Kara. What's done is done_," was all he'd said.

She wasn't sure how Roslin had done it; how she'd managed to make the idea of returning to Kobol for hidden scrolls seem so _right_. She wasn't sure why neither she nor Lee hadn't questioned why Roslin was presenting the idea to them and not Adama - and why later, she hadn't thought to question the fact the plan had been sprung on the Admiral as a total suprise. She'd just allowed herself to be carried away and said yes before she'd really thought.

Memories of when Adama had been presented with the mission plan flooded her mind. It had been a disaster of huge proportions, though no one but she had seemed to realise it at the time...

-xxx-

_During the presentation, Adama did nothing but nod once, and he looked no one in the face._

_When the President's presentation was over, he said nothing._

_Roslin stood calmly, waiting for an argument from him she could deal with. Kara and Lee waited expectantly for a discourse on military decisions being his prerogative, not the President's, and about unnecessary risk and the flaws in their plan that needed to be remedied._

_The silence lengthened._

_Roslin moved uncomfortably, unsure of what was happening. She'd known he'd be angry with her tactics, but this was important to her, and she felt the risks justifiable. There were a few problems with the plan itself, but she had expected Bill would iron those out once he realised that there was no stopping her getting her way..._

_And still he made no move to respond._

_Uncertainly, Roslin looked at Lee. Taking that look as a plea to do something, and finally unable to stand his father's stony silence any longer, Lee spoke. _

_He glowered at his father._ "_What? You have nothing to say?" he asked in an angry tone. _

_Guilt always made him angry. _

_Anger always made him lash out defiantly._

_Adama slowly turned cool eyes towards his son. "What would you have me say, Major?" he asked. Not quite meeting his son's eyes, he said, "You've made your decision and agreed to a plan. I'm not certain why I've been called in, unless it's to request leave, as this is obviously a civilian endeavour."_

_Lee's eyes widened. "A civilian endeavor? That's what you see this as?" Moving his hands angrily, he said, "I can't believe it. Once again, you totally-" Lee began a tirade that made Kara, who stood beside him, take a few steps away._

_William Adama sat silently as his son's venom-filled words filled the room. Then, seemingly unaffected by Lee's continued vituperation, he rose from his chair. When he stood erect, the words flowing from Lee's mouth stopped abruptly. _

_Everyone held their breath, anticipating a blast of anger, followed by a good dressing down._

"_Provide a list of materiel requred to Colonel Tigh. After consultation, we will do our best to offer you what you need," he said in a mild tone. His eyes glanced off the three standing in front of him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to return to CIC."_

_He inclined his head, turned, and walked out of the room. _

_All three co-conspirators watched his departure in astonished silence. _

_After the curtain fell behind his father's back, Lee threw the maps he held in his hands onto the President's desk in disgust. Since his return as CAG on Galactica, he'd grown increasingly like the angry man he'd been when he'd arrived to fly in the decommissioning salute. Unable to explain or understand his father's new demeanor, he'd at first thought it was just his way of giving his son space to act independently without showing his worry. Then he'd thought it was caused by concern about cylons and the colony and the deteriorating state of the ships still left in space. When the cylons had returned and the rescue begun, Lee had been relieved, thinking that finally the man he had come to respect, and yes, love, would return as well._

_He had not._

_So Lee had slowly reverted to his old pattern of sullen distrust and resentment._

_His father did not seem to notice. _

_Or care._

Kara closed her eyes as realisation dawned on her. Adama had known. He'd known that they'd do something. Maybe not this specific thing, but he'd known they'd go behind his back again. She opened her eyes and looked down at him and felt her heart sink. All they had done, she thought with sudden insight, was live up to his expectations of them. They'd betrayed him. Gone behind his back, made decisions they had no right to make...And he'd known all along that they would.

_It had all happened before, it was all happening again._

Watching Adama quietly go through the motions of guiding the fleet, Kara made a silent vow. When this mission was over, she promised, she was going to punch Lee for being such an asshole, swear off ever listening to anything Roslin said to her again, and then pin William Adama down and sort out what the hell had happened to him.

With one last, sad look, she turned and quietly left to prepare for her departure to Kobol.

End  
Chapter 2


	3. Resolve

Here we are at chapter three. I'm not totally sure it's ready, but I'm going away, so figure I might as well post it before I leave.

Hope you enjoy it. Please, drop a line either way to give me your thoughts...

Disclaimer: I still own nothing ...

**Too High A Cost**  
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 3**

_**Resolve...**_

The mission had failed. Bill heard it all as he sat in his quarters listening to the wireless. He'd heard the reports about their being fired upon after they'd entered the planet's atmosphere, had heard Kara's _"Oh frak_," when their raptor had been hit, and had heard Lee begin his last report before exiting the damaged vessel.

_"I think we've been spotted. They-"_

The radio had then gone silent.

When he heard Gaeta say transmissions were being jammed, he reached over and turned off the radio.

Kara and Lee's fate had been sealed the moment Roslin had presented them with her plan. He grimaced. On a fundamental, instinctive level, he'd known that any plan to return to Kobol would be a mistake. He'd seen the blood that planet exacted for visiting its surface, and though not a religious man, he held a warrior's respect for the evidence. When he'd discovered Roslin had chosen Lee and Kara to carry out her crazy, needless mission, he'd clenched his hands and wanted to break something. The old Adama would have done so, and then used calm logic to persuade everyone to take a second look at the feasiblity and necessity of the plan. Or he'd have searched for and found a compromise, so that everyone was reasonable satisfied.

The new William Adama had done none of those things. Instead, he had sat wordlessly and done nothing... Except quietly and methodically formulate a plan of his own, in case one were needed. Unless a miracle occurred, he was pretty certain there would be a mess to clean up - and, this one last time, he'd need to be prepared to do it.

He looked at the now-quiet wireless set and sighed. As expected, no miracle had brought the mission success. Now, with Kara and Lee's last words still ringing in his ears, he turned his attention to the maps in front of him. It was time to do what he had known from the beginning he would have to do.

He rose tiredly. He could hear the muted sounds of his name being urgently broadcast in the corridor outside. The the phone on his desk began to ring insistently. Knowing it was CIC requesting his presence to deal with this latest fiasco, he ignored it. Looking around his quarters, he said a silent goodbye and headed towards the door.

-xxx-

Tigh had barely finished asking Dualla to try to locate the Admiral again when a signal on her board caught her attention. Examining it, she announced in a surprised voice, "A raptor is leaving the landing pod, sir."

She paused, and then added with a frown, "Its call numbers are odd...I don't recognise them..." She looked up. "Its flight plan indicates it's headed for Kobol."

Tigh turned sharply. "What do you mean 'odd'? And who the hell okayed someone to leave?" he demanded. "The orders were that no one else goes down there."

Her fingers flew over her console. Looking at her screen, she frowned. "Admiral Adama, sir."

"What?"

She continued to concentrate, her dark features eerily lit by the display in front of her. "Admiral Adama approved it, sir. It's his personal code. He authorised the flight plan."

"Put me through to whoever's flying her," he growled.

She contacted the ship, then paused when she heard the pilot's voice. Looking up, her eyes huge, she said, "It's the Admiral, sir."

The Colonel's eyes narrowed and he reached for the phone receiver. "Like I said," he ordered curtly. "Put me through."

"Admiral?" he said as soon as he heard the familiar sound of an open line.

"Saul," Adama's gravelly voice replied.

Frowning at the use of his first name, Tigh straightened as worry ran down his spine.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like?"

Tigh's frown deepened as he reined in a desire to curse. "Don't play games. We need you here on the ship."

"I'm getting them back."

"Of course. We need to get a team together and-"

Bill cut into his words. "No. No team. There have been too many deaths already, and this is something I have to do. I'll make sure they get back." He paused a moment, then said in a quieter tone, "I'm going to need your help on this one, Saul."

Saul closed his eyes. Bill taking this approach was a sure sign that whatever he wanted wasn't going to be something he liked - and would be impossible for him to refuse. After all these months of stony reserve, this offer of Bill's trust would be impossible not to accept.

"Talk to me," he said in a gruff tone.

"I need you to promise that no matter what happens, you won't send any more of my people down onto Kobol. That's a direct order, but I want you to promise, too. I told you: there've been too many deaths. It has to stop here."

He waited, and when Tigh said nothing, prompted, "Saul?"

"I hear you," he replied tensely. Knowing he could refuse Bill nothing, he cursed under his breath, then, inhaling deeply, said, "Agreed. I promise."

There was relief in Adama's voice when he continued, "Good. Now, I need you to move the fleet. The cylons know we're here, and it'll only be a while before there's more of them flying around this planet than we can handle. I don't want the _Galactica_ or any of the fleet here when they arrive."

Bill stopped talking for a moment and Saul could picture him making control adjustments in the raptor. Adama soon resumed his instructions.

"Jump to the first set of emergency co-ordinates," he continued. "Gaeta has the next three jumps after that plotted already. In five days time, I want you at the second set. You can jump around more, if you need to, but no matter what, be sure to be at that second set of coordinates in five day's time. If there's no one there to meet you already, hang around for forty-eight hours. If no one shows in that time, it means you'll have to make way for Earth without them. You'll find charts on my desk that use the information we gathered when we were in the Tomb of Athena." There was a deep pause, then Bill added in a quieter tone, "I'm relying on you, Saul. This is the last blood we're going to be forced to shed here. Make sure you never come back."

The connection severed and Tigh blinked. This was not the action of the man he knew - not even in his younger, more wild days would Bill have pulled a stunt like this.What was his friend thinking? His features hardened. But his commanding officer had given him orders - and his friend had asked for his help...

Pulling himself together, he turned towards Dualla and barked, "You record that?"

She nodded. She hadn't heard the other side of the conversation, but the expression on the Colonel's face frightened her.

"Good. Send it to the President. Then tell her I want her here ASAP." He turned, then remembered one of her earlier comments. Looking back at her again, he ordered, "And get Tyrol up here. I want to know why we don't recognise those call numbers."

-xxx-

Striding towards Bill's quarters, Tigh cursed under his breath. Tyrol's news that Adama had had him working on a sheilded raptor built along the lines of the viper they'd named 'Laura' filled him with anger. Bill had kept his project secret - yet another sign of the man's new propensity for not sharing anything with anyone.

_"He said he wanted something that would carry a number of people safely, should the need arise," Tyrol said. "It sounded like a good idea, to me. And when he ordered me to keep it quiet, I did."_

_Tigh nodded. He'd wondered why Bill had kept Saunders on as Chief after Tyrol had returned, but had known better than to ask; now he knew. He took a moment to wish he'd spent as much time with the grease monkeys as Bill had always done. Perhaps he'd have known a lot sooner. He'd certainly have noticed Tyrol's absense from the floor, and asked what was up._

_Not much he could do about that now, though. _

_When told that the Admiral was on his way to Kobol in the newly finished vessel, Tyrol had frowned, and explained his worry that the sheilding that made it invisible to DRADIS might not withstand the heat of entry into the planet's atmosphere - and that even if it did, the re-entry into space might destroy it._

_"This is a new science," he'd said. "We haven't experimented with that sort of thing. There hasn't been time." _

_So there was the chance that, although the raptor would have been undetectable while it waited for the _Galactica_ at the emergency co-ordinates, the ship might not even make it to Kobol in one piece...  
_

_"This sheilding of yours - if it survives the entry, will it make the raptor undetectable to DRADIS in the planet's atmosphere?"_

_Tyrol shrugged. "I don't know. It definitely won't keep it from being seen by the naked eye."_

_"This thing been flight tested at all yet?" Tigh asked._

_Tyrol shook his head. "Like I said; no time, sir. I barely got things finished before he told me he was taking it. If I'd known he was going to try to enter the planet's atmosphere, I'd have tried to talk him out of it. I don't really think it's a good idea."_

_Tigh grunted. That told him why Adama hadn't offered the raptor to Lee and Kara. No way in hell would he have endangered them by testing something like that for one of Roslin's escapades._

And now Tigh was on his way to Bill's quarters to meet with Roslin, his anger building with each step. The location of their meeting had been chosen to give particular emphasis to Bill's absence, though gods knew if the President would have enough sense to realise the gesture...

-xxx-

Roslin looked up at Colonel Tigh with a shocked expression.

He glared at her.

After forcing her to listen to the transmission again, he demanded, "You know what that is, don't you?"

Feeling sick to her stomach, she nodded.

He ignored her nod and explained anyway: "That's his exit line. He's not coming back. He's going out to correct _your_ mistake and figures he's going to die doing it."

She looked away, quoting in a whispered voice, "_The planet exacts its price in blood upon those who return to it."_

Tigh snorted. "Something _you _were more than aware of when you asked the two most important people to him in the universe to go down onto it for a stupid, frakking, pie-in-the-sky chance to find lost scrolls you couldn't even come up with a decent, frakking reason for wanting," he said, his angry words rushing one over the other.

"They might hold information on how to get to Earth," she said, defending her actions.

"_If _they even exist! You based this whole operation on a whim, on the memory of an off-the-cuff comment Elosha made about wishing they'd drawn a map and left it for us. There is _nothing_ to indicate that what she said was anything more than just wishful thinking."

What he said was true, but she had hoped that perhaps...

"I believed-" she began.

Tigh growled in anger. Frustrated beyond belief, he said, "Madame President, I'm not concerned about what you _believed_. I need to deal with what we _know_, and what we _know_ is that William Adama has just set himself up for what amounts to a suicide run at that frakking planet to save two people who should never have been sent there in the first place! All this time we could have been heading towards Earth, and you-" He stopped abruptly, knowing there was little point in rehashing his previous arguments.

"I thought-" she began.

He waved an angry hand. "_Gods_, I don't have time for your thoughts right now, either. We're beginning procedures for an emergency jump. The cylons are going to be here any time. We can't fight them, and the Admiral wants the fleet safe - so we're going to do exactly what he's asked, and we're going to hightail it to our next co-ordinates."

Her head snapped up at his words. Rising to her feet quickly, she said, "What? No! We can't leave him! I won't-"

He heard desperation in her voice, and the look of horror on her face gave him reason to pause. Noting it had been Bill who was her first worry, he scrutinised her, his brows drawn together. Thinking quickly, he made a calculated guess that seemed to fit, and his faced hardened.

Breaking into her protests, he said, "Madame President, I think it would be fair to say you left him a long time ago - and with this mission, you took the people he cared about most. Now, gods help him, he's ordering the rest of us away, too. I'm going to follow his orders. To the letter. They make sense, and he deserves at least that."

Roslin seemed to deflate in front of his eyes. Her face took on a stricken expression, and she appeared small and powerless and broken enough that something in him might have felt sorry for her if he hadn't known that she had designed this whole frakking mess. If she'd just approached Bill, had just asked him to explore possibilities and then listened to whatever he'd said...but no - she'd done what she always did - decided what she wanted to do and went ahead without any thought of the consequences to others.

As he watched her, however, her expression changed and her shoulders straightened.

She was silent a moment, then she asked in a quiet tone, "Did he order that none of his people follow him down?"

"Yes," he responded curtly. She'd heard the tape; she already knew that.

"And you have every intention of following that order, of course," she stated calmly.

He looked at her with open irritation. As though he'd do anything else. Bill had been betrayed often enough. He'd promised. He wouldn't break that promise.

She inhaled deeply. "Fine, then: I want a raptor and two men. Civilians. You must have a list somewhere of people who can fly. He can't do whatever he's got planned alone. I'm going after him."

The Colonel's eyes opened in astonishment. "You will do no such thing," he barked. "You'll stay right here, where you can't undo whatever it is he's going to attempt in order to save his son and Thrace. How the hell do you think having both the Admiral of the Fleet _and _the President of the Twelve Colonies down on that frakking planet will help anything?"

Bill would kill him if he let Roslin follow and frak things up.

Laura Roslin stood. Drawing herself to her full height, she inhaled deeply. "Colonel Tigh," she said firmly, "as President of the Twelve Colonies, I order you to assemble a raptor and two civilians to take me to the planet."

Tigh did not respond, but he felt a horrible, sick sense of déjà vu when she continued in a low voice, "I've got to go, Colonel. This is between him and me. I've got to go get him. We're not going anywhere without him."

Saul closed his eyes. It hadn't been as eloquently spoken, but it amounted to the same damned thing Adama had said when he'd gone off in search of her and the arrow.

_It had all happened before; it would all happen again_.

He grimaced. He'd always hated that frakking part of the scriptures.

And hated it even more when it snuck up and bit him in the ass.

Seeing him waver, Roslin pushed, "You won't be disobeying his orders. This is all on my shoulders. He said he didn't want his people sent. I'm not asking for any of his people. All I want is a raptor, a civilian pilot, and one other person. Preferably someone who can read a map."

Semantics. It was all semantics, but still...Slowly, Tigh allowed the tension in his shoulders to ease. Opening his eyes, he looked at the President and felt some of Bill's lost hope stir in his chest. Miracles did happen. Perhaps she _would_ bring him back.

And if things went wrong, at least maybe it would mean that Laura Frakking Roslin wouldn't be around to screw things up any more.

"Fine," he said grudgingly. "You have about sixty minutes to get yourself ready. I'll get a team put together." Turning, he left the President alone in the Admiral's softly lit quarters.

Laura looked around her. An hour was far more than she needed to prepare for the planet. A fear she couldn't identify swept over her, and she fought down a sense of panic. Feeling lost, she rose and walked to Bill's rack area. Without thinking, she crawled onto his bed and rested her head on his pillow. As longing overwhelmed her, she closed her eyes and curled up into a tight ball.

-xxx-

An hour later, dressed in canvas pants, a military-issue jacket, and sturdy boots, Roslin walked into the hangar and saw that Saul Tigh had been as good as his word. Her eyes widened when she saw who he had chosen.

She turned to look at the Colonel in surprise.

"Well?" he growled before she could speak, "What did you expect? That I'd send people with you who wouldn't be any help? If you want to do this, I'm going to do everything I can to help you succeed. Hell, this is the first fra-" He caught himself, and began again, "This is the first time you've ever decided to do something I think is worthwhile."

"But-"

She gestured towards the man standing by the raptor's entry hatch.

"Dishonourable discharge," Tigh said gruffly. "Insubordination; failure to comply with a direct order. The list goes on. He asked for it."

"Thank you," she said simply.

Tigh grunted. "Just find him and bring him home. I don't want this damned job. My sense of direction is lousy and Earth's too far away."

He looked at the man he'd chosen to accompany Roslin and the young woman who stood by his side. "We need him back," he said pointedly. "We need them _all_ back." Then, after nodding a farewell to them all, he turned on his heel and left.

Roslin watched his retreating back, then turned towards the two who stood waiting.

"Lieutenant Agerthon, Sharon, thank you."

Helo nodded. "It's a pleasure, Madame President."

Sharon regarded her silently.

End  
Chapter 3  
Too High a Cost


	4. Faith

Sorry for the long time between posts. I know how hard it is to keep track of a story's plot when a writer doesn't post frequently enough. Your patience is appreciated. I promise the next chapter will be coming along in just a few days. It'll be longer, too. Much longer.

Thanks as always for reading, and for taking the time to let me know what you think. This is just a shorty chapter, but hopefully sets things up a bit for what comes later.

Disclaimer: They're not mine, but they're fun to play with, so I do. Thankfully, they don't complain.

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 4**

_**Faith**_

He'd headed for the edge of a swampy plain, angling the raptor so that it settled into the underbrush beneath a canopy of tall trees that stood guard at the beginning of miles of thick forest. Setting the raptor down neatly, he cut the thrusters, gathered his equipment, and stepped outside. After spending several important minutes hiding the one side of the ship visible from the clearing, he got his bearings and set out. Cylons would not have spotted his presence in orbit, and they appeared not to have made visual with him as he burned through the atmosphere. He didn't, however, want to be found anywhere near what might be Kara and Lee's only means of transportation off the planet. With that in mind, he moved away quickly.

Three hours later, he had covered a lot of ground. Sure that he had not been traced, he stopped to eat and to examine his position. Cross-referencing where Gaeta had plotted Kara and Lee's last transmission, he chose an area he expected they might have landed. Looking at the terrain contained within the circled area, he chose the most welcoming site and decided to head in that direction. It would take at least two more hours, he figured, to reach it, but not quite as long to search. Cylons weren't particularly quiet, and since they'd leave at least one to patrol where the raptor had landed, he'd hear it sooner or later.

Checking his timepiece, he readied himself to go and then shrugged his gun over his shoulder. Thankful for a year with little to do but work out in _Galactica's_ gym, he resumed his trek.

Once he found their ship it wouldn't be long before he knew where they were.

Something told him all he'd have to do is look for cylons...

-xxx-

Kara and Lee sat huddled together and held their breath. They'd managed to land their damaged raptor and had barely managed to escape it before the cylons had appeared. They had run for their lives, until, scratched, bleeding, and exhausted, Lee had spotted a small copse of brush and fallen trees. Grabbing Kara's arm, he'd unceremoniously pulled her into the middle of it. Short minutes later, a cylon had menaced by, its head turning back and forth as it sought sight of them.

When its footfalls faded into the distance, Kara let out a relieved sigh. "That was close," she whispered.

Lee just nodded and waited. When nothing had moved for ten minutes, he relaxed somewhat.

"We are so frakked," Kara whispered.

Lee shook his head. "Not yet. We just have to outwait them."

She snorted. "Outwait them, and then what? We've got no way off this planet, Lee. That raptor will never fly again."

"Never say never," he replied.

"Oh, and that's _so_ helpful," she said sarcastically.

Out of ideas, Lee fell silent.

-xxx-

Half an hour later, Lee and Kara looked at one another. Visibility from their rabbit warren of a hiding place was poor, but they figured that worked both ways, so they felt relatively safe. They'd found enough space to sit in reasonable comfort while they tried to figure out a plan of action. As they did, however, tension between them began to build.

Lee finally spoke to it.

"It's killing you that you can't blame _me_ for this, isn't it?" he accused her.

"No more than it's killing _you_ because you can't blame _me_," she snapped back.

There was a moment's silence, then Kara said disgustedly, "We're both frakking idiots."

He hated to agree, but given their present situation it was impossible not to.

Kara decided to press the matter further. "Your father knew this would happen."

"Yeah, maybe," Lee agreed. "He sure didn't try to stop us though, did he?"

His tone indicated the question was purely rhetorical.

Kara responded anyway.

"Would it have done any good if he had?" she asked regretfully. "We'd made up our minds already. _Frak_," she said angrily, "we screwed him over him again..."

Lee turned on her angrily. "We did nothing of the sort. We-"

Kara refused to listen to his excuses. "Excuse me," she said. Holding up her fingers, she counted off as she spoke. "We consorted with Roslin behind his back," she said harshly, "_and_ we agreed to carry out a mission without even discussing it with our superior officer, and _then_ we stood there while Roslin presented it as a done deal. Damned right we betrayed him. _And_ the line of command, and a whole bunch of other things, too." She threw up both hands. "Hell, we don't learn, do we?"

Put that way, he could see her point. It was just that where Roslin was concerned it was hard to tell what was military and what was presidential and who you were supposed to pay attention to and when. He looked at Kara and decided against mentioning that.

"When we get back-" he began.

"_If_ we get back," she said. "We're on our own. Roslin agreed that no one would be sent after us, remember? "

"We'll get back," he insisted. Looking into the distance glumly, he continued, "Though it'd probably be better for us if we _don't_ make it back - when we do, there's going to be no forgiveness in him."

There was no need for him to say who he was referring to.

She looked at him askance. "Like his forgiveness has ever made a difference to you!" she said bitterly. "You haven't cared about what he thinks or how he feels since I've known you." She shook her head. "You just don't get it. You don't know how lucky you've been."

She slumped as her anger dropped away, leaving her face sad and drawn. Her voice soft and haunted, she said, "You just don't know... You've spent your entire life - or at least your life since I've known you - pushing away the one person in the universe who loves you unconditionally." She paused. "Or who did, anyways."

"He's changed," Lee said in a low tone.

Kara nodded. "Almost into the man _you_ tried to say he was."

Lee moved restlessly. It was true, and that hurt. Even during the years he had refused to communicate with his father, he'd known he was at least partly wrong in the way he had chosen to react to his brother's death. But there had been a certain satisfaction in having something solid and real to blame for something that had hurt him so much, and so he had continued to hold his grudge and nurture his blame.

"Yeah, well..."

She looked at him sadly. "I miss him, Lee."

He looked at her. There were tears in her eyes, and the wounded, lost look on her face was painful to see. Her closeness to his father - her _neediness_ in regards to his father - confused him and was the source of a lot of resentment. Anger began to simmer inside him. They were on Kobol being chased by cylons and probably in the most hopeless situation they'd ever been in, and _she _was crying over his frakking father - a man who _could_ have stopped them from being in this situation in the first place.

"We've got other things to worry about at the moment. Let's focus," he said abruptly.

He was right. Angry at herself for showing weakness, she looked in the direction from which they'd come and surreptitiously wiped the tears from her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes a moment, then turned and asked calmly, "When do you suppose the cylons will be back looking for us?"

Lee looked around. "If they follow a typical search pattern, they'll be back in about an hour or so. It depends on how large an area they're searching at a time, I guess. There's only half a dozen or so of them from what I can tell, so they'll keep the search area as large as possible and spread themselves thin."

He didn't want to think about what it would be like when their reinforcements arrived.

"So we'd better find a safer place to hole up."

He nodded in agreement. The place they were in had worked okay, but they'd never be able to light a fire, and they'd get soaked when the evening rains started. Looking through the foliage towards the dark escarpment he knew loomed high on their left, he nodded his head. "That's where we were headed. Why don't we get started?"

Lifting her share of the items they'd quickly removed from the raptor before leaving it, Kara nodded.

As Lee moved past her to take the lead, she looked at him and said softly, "The Old Man won't leave without us, you know. He'll find a way of getting us home."

Without pausing a beat, Lee continued forward. "The old man you knew is dead," he said curtly.

Kara bit her lip, thinking she hated this old Lee as much as she hated the new Adama. Lowering her head, she plunged into the undergrowth. Adama wouldn't let them down. He just wouldn't...

End  
Chapter 4


	5. Reunions

Here, as promised, is chapter 5! I think things are going to get a bit complicated...

As always, thanks for your comments. It's nice to know if people are reading and if I'm making any sense at all...

Disclaimer: Nope, they're not mine, but I play with them, and they don't complain...

**Too High a Cost  
**By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx- **

**Chapter 5**

_**Reunions  
**_

Bill stopped. Off to his right, through the sound of rustling leaves and the pattering of softly falling rain, he could hear the unmistakable rasp and thud of cylon movement. He'd been young - too young - when he'd heard it for the first time, and since the end of the first Cylon War, he'd been haunted by the certainty that he would hear it again.

With a suddenness that made him pause, the faint reverberation of heavy metallic weight brought back memories of fallen friends and comrades.

_The battles they had fought; the quick decisions that had meant life or death; the way it had felt to live with the knowledge that the fall of dice was as easily predictable as how a battle might go..._

He breathed deeply, slowing the adrenaline that coursed through him. He had thrived on that uncertainty, thrived on the 'throw it all in and see how it falls' kind of life. He'd loved the way his mind had felt as he manipulated possibilities and sought out solutions not thought of before. He'd loved setting out in his viper, enveloped in the darkness of space, his purpose clear, his mind sharp, his blood pounding through his veins.

_Think fast, act faster...but take the time to do things right_. It had sounded like an impossible task, but he had made it his goal during those days, and he had been grateful to find his way to a balance that had kept him and those who served with him alive.

He'd loved every minute of it.

And now, he was called to fight them again. Fixing his attention on the metallic sounds in the distance, he realised he was listening to only one cylon. He waited, picturing its movements in his mind's eye. In a reasonably short time he ascertained that it was not moving in a search pattern, but was merely treading a patterned route in one relatively small area. That meant it was guarding something - most likely Lee's raptor. There was a chance he and Kara were there and being held captive, or it might be that a cylon had simply been posted as a sentry in case an attempt was made to return the raptor.

Knowing he'd have to get closer to find out which of his hypotheses was correct, he carefully began to move forward.

He soon came upon the unmistakable signs of a barely-controlled landing. Shortly after that, he found the damaged vessel itself. Wiping rain from his brow, he cursed the planet's weather and inched through damp undergrowth to get closer. A few moments of observation told him that there was indeed only one cylon. How many others there were on the planet, he couldn't be sure of, but he kept in mind Lee's mention of seeing four. Calculating quickly, he decided there were probably at least a handful or two of them left on the planet to keep a permanent eye on things in case someone returned. Lives were cheap when they weren't really lives, he thought. The cylons stationed here could remain here for decades, feeling no loneliness, no depression, no longing for home and loved ones...

The spectre of Boomer rose unbidden in his mind. She had been miserably homesick the first few weeks aboard the _Galactica_. He could remember speaking with her and seeing the unspoken distress she felt at being separated from her family for the first lengthy period in her life. Her brave attempt to cover her feelings and do the job expected had touched him, and he'd felt a pleased sense of satisfaction when the talented young woman had settled in, found friends, and gained a comfortable and respected place amongst the flight crew.

He grimaced, chiding himself for again humanizing what he knew was only a human-looking machine. Still, on some fundamental level, he knew he would never be able to do otherwise. As much as he hated the cylon that had tried to end his life, he missed and continued to respect the wise, fun-loving young woman who had been one of his most trusted pilots.

She had been the one to finally press home to him the painful lesson that betrayal was inevitable.

The cylon Sharon he now knew, though not one and the same with Boomer, _was_ her - or part of her. Though he did not understand how, something of one had been carried to the other, and he recognised it. - and trusted in it and in their conversation in some dark, unfathomable way he knew made no sense.

Inhaling deeply, he shook his thoughts free and allowed his gaze to stray across the crash site. He visualised the raptor falling through the thick canopy of tree branches overhead, fighting to stay aloft as long as possible between the sparsely spread out tree trunks, and then skidding along the rough terrain until it stopped to lie partially on its side.

It didn't take much examination to know that without a team of engineers, the raptor would not be going anywhere. From the looks of it, it was a miracle that it had been landed in one piece. Taking a moment to feel pride in his son's fine piloting, he again turned his thoughts to more immediate concerns.

Observing the cylon as it came back into sight, he saw that it paid little attention to the raptor itself.

Lee and Kara were not inside.

That meant he had to determine what direction they had headed in when they'd left the raptor. He crouched silently and took a few minutes to consider his options. Quickly running through them, he went with the tried and true: _Go with what you know_. They had studied the maps and learned how to get to the Tomb of Athena, so that's where they would head. He rose. If he could find their trail, chances were he might catch up with them before nightfall.

Aware that disposing of the sentry cylon would draw attention to his presence, he silently left it to its lone duty.

-xxx-

The rain stopped and the sun appeared, creating a thick, heavy, humid atmosphere that only partially dried his wet clothing. Pressing onward, Bill became increasingly sure he was on the right track. An hour or so before sunset, he stopped as the sudden, unmistakable sound of cylon gun turrent fire echoed through the trees. Shocked at its closeness, he startled instinctively, then relaxed as he realised it was not aimed at him.

Moving swiftly towards the noise, he slowed when he was close enough to see the flash of gunfire. Approaching carefully, he found another lone cylon, this one exchanging gunfire with someone who had sought safety behind a fallen tree.

Wishing it hadn't been quite so long since he'd had a session of target practice, Bill silently placed his rifle on the ground and drew out the handgun he had brought with him. They'd learned a few things when cylons had boarded the _Galactica_ more than a year ago, and he'd placed several valuable charges in the weapon's firing chamber that they'd discovered were the most effective in destroying them.

Slowly, he raised the gun. Taking aim, he exhaled softly and fired.

The shot went wide, and the cylon reacted immediately. In one smooth, concerted movement, it turned its head and swung its right arm to fire in his direction, all the while keeping the gunfire from its left turrent spraying the fallen tree.

Bill muttered a curse as a hail of gunfire laced the area he stood in. Diving for cover, he winced as something in his shoulder pulled. Ignoring the pain, he scrabbled onto his knees, aimed his weapon, and quickly pulled the trigger again.

This time, the cylon fell, its head severed from its body.

Bill lowered his arms and looked at the gun in his hand. After taking a steadying breath, he rose to his feet and, fighting a burgeoning hope, began walking towards the fallen tree the cylon had been firing on.

-xxx-

When the shooting stopped, Kara lifted her head cautiously and peered over the top of the fallen tree she and Lee had taken refuge behind.

She tensed as she recognised their saviour, then exclaimed, _"Ohmygods! Lee! It's your dad!" _

Scrambling to her feet, she clambered over the tree trunk and ran towards the man now carefully stepping his way past the blasted remains of their cylon attacker.

Barely slowing as she reached him, she threw herself against his chest.

"I knew you wouldn't leave us! I told Lee! I told him!"

She clung to Adama's neck, oblivious to the fact that he made no movement to hold her. Leaning back, she grabbed the top of his shoulders and grinned at him, her eyes brimming with the joy of trust fulfilled.

Looking at her, Bill's features slowly relaxed. Finally drawing her close with tired arms, he hugged her back. As he did so, he felt something cold and hard inside him ease slightly. Immediately sensing the danger of that, he quickly released her.

Kara, still joyous and clutching the Admiral's arm as though afraid he would disappear, immediately turned and looked back in Lee's direction.

"Lee! Get over here! It's your father!"

Lee, who had stood and silently watched his father's and Kara's reunion, slowly moved towards them. He was unsurprised by his father's reaction to Kara - if his father were going to forgive anyone, it would always be Kara - but he knew his own greeting would not be so easy. He and his father had never travelled an easy road together...

"Dad," he said when he reached them.

"Son," Adama replied. Reaching out an arm, he placed a hand on Lee's shoulder.

"I'm glad you're safe. Glad you're both safe," his father said gruffly.

_He was doing what had to be done, and it was the right thing to do..._

Lee nodded, surprised at his father's lack of rancor. Unsure of how to respond, he looked around and asked, "Where are the others?"

Adama looked at him with steady blue eyes. "There's only me. I said no one would be sent to come after you, and I meant it. I refuse to endanger more people's lives on this planet."

Lee made as though to respond, then closed his mouth. His father was here, and that meant there was a way off the planet. He could debate the logic of his methods later.

Interrupting his son's thoughts, Adama said, "We'd better clear out of here. There are other cylons searching an area close enough to here that they would have heard the gunfire. They'll come to investigate."

Kara nodded, but did not move. Looking down at the cylon, she then looked at Adama and grinned.

"_Two_ shots, eh?"

A rueful smile escaped and played across Bill's face. "Suggest mandatory fire arms practise for _all_ personnel when you get back, okay?"

She laughed. "Will do, sir."

She wanted to hug him again, wanted to bring more of the man she had known back, but before she could, Adama's expression shuttered closed once again. "I'll get my gear; you get whatever you've been carrying," he told them. Nodding in the direction the sun was rapidly sinking towards, he said, "There's no moon, so we can't go far tonight. We'll have to find a place to stay until daybreak. I think we'll find something in that direction."

Kara nodded, her heart filled with happiness. They'd make it off this planet alive. The Admiral would see to it.

Looking at the man now walking away from her, she renewed a promise made earlier: when they got back, she'd have that talk with him. Things would be better; she'd see to it.

-xxx-

An hour or so later, they stopped for the night on the side of a hillock. As Adama had said, there was no moon, and the chance of detection had been too great for them to use any sort of light to show them their way. Not daring to light a fire, they ate cold rations and then huddled in their bed sacks and tried to sleep.

Throughout the night, as they lay waiting restlessly for dawn, they occasionally heard a cylon in the distance, but none came close to where they lay hidden. Eventually, they fell into a light sleep.

Just before daylight the next morning, they were awoken by the sound of cylon gunfire.

All three were on their feet at once.

And were then forced to drop to the ground as a wild hail of bullets ricocheted off the trees and rocks around them.

The three crouched low and tried to make sense of what was happening in the darkness below. They heard crashing footfalls racing towards them and what sounded like Colonial weaponry, then, following closely behind, the unmistakable sound of cylon turrent fire and heavy-moving machines stamping through the forest. Manoeuvring so that he could see what was happening, Lee saw two distinct flares of gunfire. He turned and whispered, "Two cylons, heading in our direction. They're chasing someone. Whoever it is, is firing back."

Bill nodded. Assessing the general situation, he gave instructions for Lee and Kara to move downhill and take up an ambush position.

Splitting up, they had barely got themselves situated when dark figures ran past them in the gloom. The two pursuing cylons were not long in following. As soon as they had passed, Lee, Kara, and Adama opened fire on them. Caught unawares, the two cylons were destroyed with surprising ease.

Rising to their feet, the three of them walked over to look at the remains of the two cylons.

"That's three down," Adama said, "but who were they firing at? I couldn't see anything. There was more than one person, though."

Lee shrugged. "I couldn't tell. We'll have to follow-"

The sound of a twig snapping as it was trod upon made all three of them turn and raise their weapons in one easy movement.

"Don't shoot," said a familiar voice. In the pale grey of early dawn, Karl Agathon stepped slowly into sight. His tall, muscular frame was followed closely by the slender, almost etheral one of Lieutenant Valerii. Agathon nodded towards the Admiral.

"Admiral Adama," he said.

Lee, Kara and the Admiral all lowered their guns.

"Lieutenant Agathon," Adama said in surprise.

Before he could say more, a movement behind the two officers drew his attention away from them. A third person emerged from the darkness. Stepping carefully towards them, the woman's eyes never left the Admiral.

Kara gasped.

"Madame President!" she said.

Lee turned to look at his father's expression.

He winced. This wasn't going to be one of those 'Madame President, it's good to see you' moments.

Kara, however, raised an eyebrow and grinned. Looking between the Admiral and the President, she drawled, "Well, it looks like the whole family's here."

Adama shot her a look that told her he wasn't amused, but she returned it with a look of wide-eyed innocence. _He_ might be acting as though the past had never happened, but _she_ refused to. She knew now beyond a doubt that the man she knew still existed somewhere inside the man who stood before her. He had, after all, come to rescue them. He still cared. The people here - including Roslin - were important to him, and she refused to act otherwise.

But now, curiousity overwhelming her, she stepped back to see how _he_ would act.

-xxx-

His whole body tensed in anger, Adama focussed his attention on Roslin. Those around him inhaled quietly and took subtle steps backwards.

"What are you doing here?"

Taking a brave step forward, the President drew herself up to her full height and said, "We came to bring you back - to bring you all back. When I heard what you'd done-" She faltered, unsure of how to avoid revealing the panic she had felt at his leaving. Finally, she continued, "I didn't think you should be here alone. You need backup. We didn't know-" Her voiced trailed off under his glare. He had, she knew, every right to be furious. Whatever cylons had been out searching for Kara and Lee would now be headed in this direction. That was bad. What was worse was that they'd also screwed up their arrival royally, and he was soon going to be even more angry than he was now.

She looked down at the ground.

"You could have got us killed," he rasped.

She raised her eyes to meet his.

"Bill-"

His name passed her lips without thinking. There was a pleading in the way she said it, a shadow of things unspoken.

He did not let her continue. "We had an agreement. What possessed you to-"

He stopped speaking abruptly and stared at her. Fighting the cold rage he carried inside his chest, he felt it begin to burn furiously. There was little to say regarding yet another betrayal of an agreement she had made with him. He wanted to lash out at her, berate her for acting first and thinking afterwards when it was too late; he wanted to chastise her for tempting the Fates with two more precious lives.

And he hated himself for having allowed himself the fool's trust he had placed in her yet again.

His fists clenched. Focussing on what had to be done, he turned away from her. Taking a ragged breath to calm himself, he turned his attention to the two who had arrived with her. "My orders were that none of my people were to be sent down here," he said in a harsh tone. "What are _you _doing here?"

Helo looked down at the toes of his boots. Looking slightly sheepish, he replied, "Technically, I'm not one of your people, anymore, sir." Looking up, he explained, "I've been discharged."

"You've _what_?"

"Been discharged, sir."

"For what reason!"

"Insubordination," Helo replied. He paused, then added, "and maybe a few other things, I'm not sure. Colonel Tigh has the list. To make it perfectly clear I was no longer military, I resigned, as well. So did Sharon." He shrugged. "After that, coming here seemed like an okay idea."

Adama's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Really."

Helo nodded. "The President needed a pilot, sir."

He turned cold eyes towards Roslin. "That's debatable."

"We're here purely on a voluntary basis, sir," Helo assured him.

Turning his attention back to the lieutenant, Adama grunted. "It's good to know you weren't _ordered_ to create this frakking mess. I'd have expected better judgment from you."

Helo's eyes turned downwards for a moment, but when he looked up, his face was filled with resolve.

"My best judgement said I should watch your back, sir. I have to be here to do that."

The Admiral held the younger man's eyes and absorbed his response, but did not answer to it. Instead, he asked, "Where did you land your raptor?"

Helo faltered, and looked uncomfortable.

Adama's heart sank.

"Well?" he asked, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"The cylons spotted us when we entered the atmosphere," Helo explained. "We got hit by one of their missiles and lost a thruster. I managed to land okay, but we've been trying to evade and outrun them ever since we got here. I thought we'd managed to elude them, until just a while ago..."

Bill sighed.

"Is she flight-worthy?"

Helo shook his head. "I don't think so. She looks okay, but there was something seriously wrong with the way she was handling. I figure she'll need parts and a couple hours with some of Tyrol's people."

Which they all knew was impossible.

The only outward evidence Adama gave of his chagrin was his clenched jaw.

"So we've lost not one, but two raptors so far," he said tightly.

Knowing how precious their military vessels were, Helo nodded uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, sir."

Adama shot the President a look, wondering if she would ever understand how high a cost her mission had just exacted from them. Two fewer raptors to defend the fleet, four of their best pilots in jeopardy...

Turning from Roslin before he lost control, he regarded Sharon silently. It did not suprise him that she had made no contribution to the conversation. As he looked at her, he felt none of the murderous intent he had once felt towards her. Now, he was grown resolved to the dichotomy of two or more Sharons in one body - the wise, young human-appearing pilot who had loved and been loved in return and who held within her all the spirit and courage of Boomer ... the programmed cylon mole, completely capable of mindlessly wreaking havoc should her programming dictate it...and the determined, young cylon who loved Helo and had given birth to their son and who claimed to have free will... and whom he had re-commissioned during a time of need...

When he spoke to her, he was never sure which of them he was speaking to, but he'd come to realise he didn't really care. She was his connection to what he didn't understand, his connection to that dark part of human nature and cylon resolve that he needed to explore and come to terms with. Her perceptions were often distasteful to him, sometimes hurt him, and regularly angered him, but he had gained from their discourses, and for that he appreciated her.

He looked at her now, however, with a heavy heart. He saw the look of fear and regret in her eyes and immediately understood it. Only Roslin, he thought, would be so unthinking as to bring her here. Only Roslin could so overlook the possible consequences of her choices in her blind rush to achieve her goal

The planet would indeed exact its price.

Feeling something settle into place, he greeted her almost kindly. His face showing none of the concern he felt for the time bomb he knew she carried inside her, he said, "Lieutenant Valerii, it is good to see you."

There was gentleness and a resignation in his voice that surprised them all.

Sharon nodded. "Thank you, sir." Looking down, the cylon said, "I'm here to help." She then lifted her eyes and met his. "I _will_ help," she promised.

Her voice held a plea that he believe her.

He did, though he suspected it would be in ways she did not yet suspect. Nodding, he held her gaze.

"I know you'll do your best."

Watching the exchange, Roslin frowned as she tried to decipher the unspoken communication she was sure was taking place. Failing, and wanting what she couldn't understand to stop, she interrupted them. "So, what do we do now?" she asked.

Adama looked at her briefly, then turned away and addressed the others. "Now, we find a place to make camp and then we sit and wait. I arranged a rendezvous point with the _Galactica_ in three day's time. With this many of us, I've got to take a better look at how to get to our transportation. Before I move to get you off this planet, I need to see what kind of search sequence they set up to find us. Once I know that, we'll move accordingly. Until then, we need to hide out somewhere far enough away that if we're discovered they don't also find our transportation off the planet," he said.

She noticed he had totally ignored the object of the original mission, which had been to seek out the scrolls. She thought for a moment about suggesting that since they were almost there...and stopped herself. Looking at the four young people in front of her, and at the man who felt responsible for them, she paused to rethink.

Now might not be the time.

Watching as the others prepared to move out, she decided to think about it a while more before proposing that they make their way to the Tomb of Athena.

When Adama shouldered his gun, Roslin saw him wince.

Taking an impulsive step towards him she asked, "Are you hurt?"

Ignoring her, he nodded towards a steep incline on their left that signalled the foot of the escarpment that they had been travelling towards. "I'd like to get to the top before mid-afternoon. If the cylons don't know your raptor can't fly, they'll wait for us to show up there, but they'll only wait for so long. Then they'll figure out we're up to something else and start scouting around for us."

Looking at the small group he was now responsible for, he turned. "Let's clear camp and get moving," he said.

-xxx-

The journey up the escarpment was made mostly in silence. Roslin could tell that Lee and Kara avoided even looking at her, and had also noticed the close formation they kept with the Admiral. Their disasterous arrival on the planet and Bill's dramatic arrival to rescue them had changed the dynamics of things once again, and their focus remained on him, all thoughts of her mission set aside.

She'd tried to muster a conversation with Sharon:

"I was surprised by the Admiral's reaction to your being here," she said.

Sharon looked at her. Something flashed in her eyes, but was too quickly gone for Roslin to interpret.

Reaching out a hand to grab a branch to help pull herself along with, Sharon looked at the President for a second before responding. "The Admiral is generous," she told the older woman. "He knows me, and for some reason forgives one part because he cares about the other." She stopped and held the president's gaze. "He has compassion, Madame President. In a fleet filled with people who just want the job done for them, he cares about the people who have to accomplish that job. It's something you might consider learning."

Laura was struck by the young woman's blunt intensity. She blinked.

"But he orders you into danger all the time," she said, not understanding.

"Yes, he does. It's his duty to do so and it's our duty to obey. But when he does it, he weighs the odds, makes sure we're as safe as he can make us because he cares about us. As people. As people who _matter_ to him. And that's the important difference: he worries about us and our safety and if he's done everything he can to ensure our coming back alive. The mission is important, but so are we. You worry about if we'll succeed and about the people's perceptions and about how they'll react once they know what you've done. You don't ever really consider the lives you're putting at risk. He does. Always."

It was a harsh evaluation, and took Laura aback. Had she become the woman this young cylon described? Had she become so goal-driven that she failed to consider the people she sent out to attain those goals? Had she lost that much of her humanity that individuals meant so little to her?

Helo, who had been following and overheard, drew up beside Sharon and said, "We got to know the Old Man pretty well over the past year. He's distanced himself from the people around him, but he still cares. He wouldn't be here, otherwise." He looked ahead to where Adama led their small group. "He's changed, but that may be simply to protect himself. The past year wasn't easy for him."

Laura opened her mouth to ask a question, but was forestalled by Lee's voice calling back to them:

"We're almost there."

And miraculously, they were. Setting aside what she had been told for later thought, Roslin resumed her upward climb.

-xxx-

Finally at the top of the escarpment, they stopped for food and water and then travelled farther inland for about a mile. The flat, forested plateau they travelled suddenly gave way to the edge of a deep, narrow, and heavily-treed gorge. The roar of falling water could be heard deep at its bottom, to their left.

"We'll camp at the bottom," Adama told them gruffly. "It's deep enough we can light a fire down there and by the time the smoke reaches here, it'll be too diffused to see."

"How'd you know this was even here?" Kara asked, looking down the steep side of the gorge. It was covered in dense, damp foliage that would be a pain to travel through, and was deep enough that she couldn't see the bottom from where she stood. Looking on the bright side, however, she determined that at least there were enough trees and bushes growing on its sides to prevent them from slipping and falling straight to the bottom.

Adama shrugged. "Chief Tyrol says topography is for sissies, and he may be right, but it taught me what to look for when reading a map." Looking at the darkening sky, he told them, "We'd better move fast. It'll be dark down there a long time before it gets dark up here." He looked at Helo. "I'll take point. You've got my back."

Helo held the Admiral's gaze. Recognising the Admiral's words for what they were, he nodded slowly

"Thank you, sir," he said..

He'd follow this man to hell and back.

Roslin watched the exchange silently, then observed Bill carefully as he walked by her. He was holding himself stiffly and she wondered again if he were hurt. Knowing better than to comment, she followed the others down over the edge of the steep bank.

End Chapter 5


	6. Rest

Where does time go? To those who are still reading, I hope this isn't too off the wall. To those who are kind enough to read _and _review, I thank you! It makes posting so much sweeter.

Disclaimer: As always, I acknowledge that these characters are not mine - and also solemly swear that they don't mind being taken for a drive so long as I get them home before curfew.

* * *

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 6**

_**Rest...**_

After safely reaching the bottom of the gorge, Bill led them upriver for a kilometre or so before indicating where they would camp for the night.

"It'll be dark soon," he told them. "Set up camp; I'm going to take a look around. I'll bring back wood for the fire." Confident he wouldn't need it, he leaned his rifle against a tree and set his back pack down on the ground beside it. Looking around, he chose his direction and set out, glad for a few moments alone.

Kara looked up, glanced at his retreating back, and then looked over at Roslin. Lifting her chin in Adama's direction, she suggested, "Madame President, we're okay here - why don't you help the Admiral bring back firewood? The more we have, the better."

Laura hesitated, then nodded. In spite of her reservations about Bill wanting her anywhere near him, she wryly decided it wouldn't do to look cowardly in front of the voters. Setting her knapsack on the ground beside his, she followed Adama into the woods.

When she caught up with him, he glanced at her, but said nothing.

"Kara sent me to help gather firewood," she explained. She was damned if she'd allow him to intimidate her with silence.

Not looking at her, he said, "I'm heading for the river first." With that, he lapsed into silence and continued on his way as though she were not there.

Refusing to be deterred, she looked about, then followed him in the gathering gloom. Eventually, they broke through a short patch of underbrush and she found herself standing on the moss-covered bank of the river. Though still quite a few yards away, the roar of the waterfall was deafening, and she could feel the cool mist thrown up into the air as the cascading water hit the bottom of the gorge.

High above them, she could see a slender patch of the planet's steadily graying sky.

Her thoughts, however, were on Bill. He'd been cold, unapproachable and taciturn since his initial flash of anger upon her arrival. Still, even though aware of his reluctance to have her with him, she couldn't resist trying to force some kind of rapprochement. Moving closer to him so that she would not have to raise her voice to be heard over the sound of falling water, she observed, "It's steeper here than where we came down."

Adama nodded. "It's an easier descent down river. We'd have needed climbing gear to make it down safely at this point."

Encouraged by his response, she tried again: "Why did you bring us upriver so far?" she asked curiously. "We passed a number of places that looked as though they'd be comfortable for the night."

"It's safer here," he said. He hesitated, then couldn't resist explaining, "The gorge is narrower here, so the cylons will have a shorter visual opportunity if their reinforcements arrive and they start air reconnaissance. That's also why we're camping closer to the cliff, instead of here beside the river. We'll have the protection of trees and the plant growth on the cliffs. It'll be harder to spot us."

She nodded, oddly comforted by how matter-of-factly he explained the way he had ensured their safety. As his eyes restlessly surveyed the area, she regarded him silently, wondering how she had taken so for granted that she would always have his solid, reliable support. She opened her mouth to say thank you for bringing them here safely, but was forestalled by him stepping away from her. Looking around, he walked over to the edge of the river. Stepping out onto one of the large rocks that jutted out of the quickly-flowing water near the bank, he squatted down on his haunches and withdrew something from one of his pockets. She could not see what he was doing, but eventually she saw him shake what looked like a vial, then hold it up in the failing light. There was clear liquid sloshing around in it.

"What is that?" she asked, drawing nearer to the water's edge for a closer look.

"The water tests okay. We can drink it."

Laura nodded. With his usual quiet efficiency, he was taking care of everything.

He rose, wincing a bit as he straightened. Balancing carefully, he pivoted and stepped back onto the bank. "Time to go back," he said.

Laura nodded. She watched as he walked away from her, then sighed, and moved to follow.

-xxx-

Darkness had fallen by the time Adama and Roslin returned. The camp had been set up, and a small fire built with kindling burned merrily, awaiting the heavier wood they carried with them.

After they fed the fire and warmed their food, the group ate, then remained around the fire to talk.

Watching Lee, Kara, Helo and Sharon converse quietly, Adama felt a wave of melancholy wash over him. These young people deserved so much more than the endless struggle that life appeared to have scripted for them. His eyes strayed across the fire's low flames towards Roslin. She and her Kobol foolishness had made their survival even more precarious. He turned away abruptly as anger coiled tightly inside his chest.

Now it was his responsibility to get them all away safely. Lee and Kara because he loved them and placed his hope for the future in them; Helo and Sharon because they should never have been here either, and because over the past year he had come to care for them and knew they would be needed. His eyes slowly turned back towards Roslin. And Roslin...she also needed to be returned safely, because, whether he liked it or not, humanity needed her leadership. No matter how he looked at it, she was the human race's best bet for survival.

Any other feelings he had in regards to her he kept tightly reined.

After listening to the fireside conversation for a while more, his eyes grew heavy and a wave of exhaustion rolled through him. It had been a long couple of days, and the stress and physical exertion of them were beginning to make themselves felt. Rising, he glanced at the three tarps that had been spaced around the perimeter of their camp site.

"Where did you put me?" he asked.

Pointing towards the tarp set off to their right, Helo said, "You and the President are over there."

Roslin and Adama avoided looking at one another. It spite of their obvious rift, it would have been taken for granted that they would be together.

It was, after all, how it had been before...

They were also being sent a message, but neither were ready to hear it yet.

Wanting to see for herself where they'd be spending the night, Laura stood up and followed Bill over. When they reached their bedsite, she looked at him. Trying for a light tone, she said, "I guess we're roommates again."

Adama said nothing. Shrugging off his outer jacket, he sat down, took off his boots, and then slipped into his bedsack. Looking up at her with eyes that held no warmth, he said, "Don't stay up too late; we may have to move tomorrow, and the terrain is rough."

She looked down and watched as he settled with his back turned firmly towards her. Knowing herself to be unobserved, she sighed softly and closed her eyes as memories flooded her mind... His arms wrapped solidly around her during their first visit to this planet. Quietly making love with him in the darkness...his hands sliding along her body, the taste of him on her lips...She could remember how the warmth between them had built...how it had filled her until every cell of her body had been ready to explode...

_He'd used his hands to increase her response to him, trailing them across her body, caressing and teasing her as she rode him until she'd wanted to scream from the pure joy of it. Of him. Of their joining. Of the night and what they were creating. When she was so taut the world could have ended and she wouldn't have cared ...when she was so taut she was breathless and focussed and lighter than air... he'd paused and whispered her name, and for one, eternal moment the sound had resonated in the air around her and through her and into her heart..._

_Then he'd resumed his movements and she hers and they had built their rhythm until it and his touch took her over the edge. As her body stretched and took flight, she'd exhaled his name softly, sending it to unite with her own in the darkness._

He had held her afterwards, his lips pressed against her hair...so solid, so very, very _there_... Turning slowly, she set aside the sense of loss that threatened to swamp her. Something had gone wrong; something had gone horribly wrong, and she might never know what or why...

Quietly, she moved to rejoin the others.

-xxx-

Helo noticed Roslin's eyes wander again and again towards where the Admiral lay sleeping. Except for the brief time they'd spent on Kobol with the arrow, he'd never seen the two leaders together much, but he'd still drawn the conclusion that they had an understanding that went beyond their positions. They'd been too comfortable, too content in one another's presence not to have been on a closer footing than simply two leaders struggling to ensure a people's survival. Now he looked at the President curiously. She'd been particularly pensive since returning to sit with them, and he figured that had something to do with the tension between her and Adama. Whatever walls the Admiral had erected around himself had been erected against her, too. Now, seeing the tightly restrained worry in her eyes, he sought to reassure her in the only way he knew how.

"It'll be okay. He's got a plan," he said gently.

Roslin turned to look at him. Conscious of the others listening, she said, "I know. It would be nice to know what it is, though."

Kara spoke into the silence that followed Roslin's words. Her tone cool, she said, "Now you know what it feels like."

Laura looked at her in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not as though you always share your plans with _him_, is it?"

Kara's blunt reply shot home, and Laura looked at the ground.

"My decisions have been made for good reason, but," she admitted, "I've also made mistakes."

Lee looked in his father's direction. "We all have. But then, he hasn't made it easy for us to do otherwise."

Kara looked at Lee in disbelief. "For frak sakes, will you stop that!" she said. Keeping her voice low for fear Adama would overhear, she continued, "Every time you or anyone else in this frakking fleet does something wrong or stupid, it somehow gets turned around so that it's your father's fault! Everything bad that happens doesn't necessarily have its roots in what he says or does, Lee! Grow up, why don't you? If he's made mistakes, at least they've been honest ones. And, if you remember, he's spent a lot of time solving problems created by other people's decisions - _and_ taking blame for things that had nothing to do with him."

Lee winced at that final jab and opened his mouth to reply. Sharon forestalled him by saying softly, "It's too late to change what's been done. It's what we do from here on that counts." When she saw that she had everyone's attention, she continued, "He came here to rescue Kara and Lee, but now he's got Helo and me and the President to get off this planet as well, and he feels just as responsible for us."

She looked at the President with calm eyes. "Our decision to come here has made things more difficult for him and added to his responsibilities, but he hasn't complained, and I trust him to get us home safely." She tilted her head to one side slightly, her dark eyes probing deeply into the President's green ones. "Perhaps this all boils down to that. It may be simply a matter of trust, Madam President. Maybe you should stop questioning and let yourself trust him."

Laura looked over at the young cylon. She didn't like the woman's calm assurance that she knew the situation. And trust was no simple thing. Her eyes narrowed. Bill trusted this cylon for reasons she couldn't fathom, and now the cylon was urging them to trust Bill.

It was so surreal it almost made her dizzy.

Shaking her head, she said, "I'm trying. It's just hard to, when I don't know what to expect."

"Think how much harder it would be if you thought you knew and people drew the mat right out from under you," Kara pointed out. "That's what he's been living with."

Lee moved impatiently. "Give it up, Kara. It's not as though _you_ haven't screwed up, so stop it."

Kara turned to Lee. Her shoulders uncharacteristically slumped, she said, "I know. And there's no excuse for what I've done. I was wrong on some level every time, and if I had to do it again, I'd do it differently. Do you think it makes me feel good that I didn't live up to his expectations until his expectations were only that I'd act against him?" She gestured and added honestly, "I might still have ended up coming here, but I should have trusted him enough to tell him what the President had in mind. This should never have happened the way it did."

Pondering her words, the small group lapsed into silence and stared thoughtfully into the fire.

Laura's eyes travelled towards Bill. Even asleep, his back turned against them, his presence loomed over them all. Shifting uncomfortably, she looked out into Kobol's darkness and said a prayer.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow, she and Bill would talk.

End Chapter 6


	7. Confrontation

The week somehow ran away on me, but here, finally, is the next chapter. Thanks to those who are still reading, and thanks, too, for the reviews. All authors will tell you it's nice to know there are people out there reading!

**Too High a Cost  
**By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 7**

_**Confrontation...**_

Bill awoke just as dawn's light began to filter down into the bottom of the gorge. The first thing his eyes rested upon when he opened them was Laura.

She slept peacefully in the slowly fading darkness, her face and body turned towards him, one smooth hand thrown out in his direction. It lay between them, only a foot or so away, and he found himself having to resist the urge to reach out and cover it with his own. He remembered the feel of her hands as they had traced lines of desire across his skin, remembered their warmth and softness, and their strength as she caressed him.

He remembered her fingers twining with his as they made love...

He remembered the pleasure of waking, warm and comfortable, with her in his arms and her hand on his chest. She had fit perfectly against him right from the beginning, her body seeking and effortlessly finding just the right place for arms and legs and head. There had been an assuredness to their positioning, an ease not usually achieved until after years of closeness. For him, it had been the telling sign that 'they' had been meant to be. It had all been too damned right not to be...

He grimaced as sadness crept into his belly. His attention turning to her untroubled features, he realised he had been terribly mistaken to think she had returned his emotion, and blind not to have seen that for her, what they shared had been a diversion, not a destination.

Still, caught off guard like this and with no one watching, he knew a part of him cared for her still - some stubborn, irrational part of him that denied what his logic told him. Instead of accepting that it was over, it insisted that he seek her out, try again, take a chance. Always lurking beneath his control, always looking for a way to escape, this part of him lay in wait for a moment of weakness.

He saw her eyelids flutter open and caught the soft green of her eyes as they focussed on him. Sharing a long, silent look with her, he felt the world slow to a halt as something warm and filled with promise stirred in the air between them. She smiled sleepily and made a slight movement with her hand towards him.

Steeling himself, he turned away resolutely. There would be no moment of weakness today.

-xxx-

Shortly after rising, Adama took Kara and Lee to the top of the escarpment to determine the risk of breaking camp and heading for the raptor. It didn't take long for him to realise they wouldn't be changing location for a while.

Barely at the lip of the gorge, they heard the unmistakable screech and hum of cylon raiders in flight.

"They've arrived," he muttered. Speaking from past experience, he told them, "They'll spend most of today doing air reconnaissance while they set up some sort of ground search grid. We're safe where we are for now. I'll take a look later to see how they're positioning themselves. Once I know that, I'll know when we can head out. It probably won't be until tomorrow."

After one last look around, the three quietly turned and began their return descent.

Once Adama had given the others the news that they'd remain where they were until at least the next day, they had spent what was left of the morning scouting out the area and settling in. Shortly before noon, they were all back at the camp site. Lee, Kara, Sharon, and Helo had quickly regained their old rapport, and conversation lobbed back and forth between the four of them easily. Adama remained content to watch and listen, quietly savouring the camaraderie he saw between them. Kara's slowly changing attitude towards Sharon pleased him; he knew and understood her reservations, but was glad that she had found a way to somehow separate, as he had, the familiar from the dangerous. He wondered what would happen to the young cylon, then stifled the regret that surged through him. It would be as it would be.

Quietly watchful, Roslin had spent her time covertly keeping an eye on Adama and pondering how to approach him. He'd kept himself separate, apparently content to let the others carry on while he watched. Kara, ever hopeful, had tried to get him engaged in their conversations, but he'd gently avoided it.

Inhaling deeply, she decided to make her move. Sitting down beside him on a large rock beside their small fire, she poked the logs with a long stick and said in a low voice, "You haven't explained what your plan is."

Keeping his eyes trained on the fire in front of him, Adama nodded. "That's right."

"You going to enlighten us anytime soon?"

He turned his head and looked at her with eyes as blue and remote as the sky above them.

"No."

She stared at him in frustration. She wanted to say he couldn't do this alone; didn't _need_ to do this alone...and then Sharon's words came rushing back to her. He didn't trust any of them, least of all her. He would get everyone off this planet, but he would do it alone, without input from anyone.

Slowly, she nodded.

"I understand," she said softly, "and I'm sorry."

He continued to look at her. He thought of hurtful things to say because he was sure she understood nothing, but, suddenly tired, he chose to remain silent. It wasn't worth it. He knew what had to be done, and he was prepared. Let things fall as they would.

Disappointed at his lack of response, Laura considered leaving, but found she had no desire to. There was a tension between them, but beside it, along its sharp edges, there was still the familiar comfort of sharing space.

Not looking at him, she poked the fire again. It had often been like this. Partly due to their positions, partly by inclination, they'd usually ended up together, side by side and somehow apart from others. It had always felt right to have him close, had felt right to feel at home in his personal space.

Looking around their camp area, she thought of her first visit to Kobol. She remembered the feel of fresh air in her lungs and of dampness against her skin... she remembered the smell of green leaves and of wet soil...But more strongly than anything, she remembered the man now sitting beside her. She remembered his eyes when they had looked at her, remembered the relief she had felt when she'd seen that he had come to make things right. And she remembered the promise and passion she had felt when they had finally set their past actions aside and consumated their relationship on the ground of the planet of the gods...

Shutting her eyes, she let a moment of physical response slide over her. He had been gentle and passionate and she had felt free and gifted and-

She opened her eyes.

In love.

She turned to look at him, shocked by her thoughts. What was being back on this planet doing to her mind? They'd been attracted to one another, found satisfaction in one another, appreciated the other...

She turned away from him, confused, and tried to concentrate on the fire..

It wasn't long, however, before she slowly turned back to look at him. Loving him would explain so much. Consumed with an overwhelming need to somehow reach him, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Bill-"

He turned, saw the look in her eyes, and raised a hand.

"Not now," he said.

Rising stiffly, he walked away from her.

She sat and watched him go. Then, her mouth in a firm, determined line, she set down the stick she'd held on the ground beside her and rose. Her eyes firmly planted on his retreating back, she followed him into the woods.

-xxx-

The others, who had been preparing to join the two leaders by the fire, stopped and watched her follow him.

"They're not doing too well," Helo observed candidly.

Sitting down heavily on the rock his father had vacated, Lee said, "We should have made them talk before we agreed to this. Then the old man could have warned us, we'd have all been able to sort things out and-"

Helo shrugged. "Roslin's persuasive, so you fell in with her plan and asked questions later."

Lee grunted. "We weren't even smart enough to ask questions later."

Still carrying anger with her like a sword, Kara spoke. "Only because you were too pissed off at your father to think straight," she sniped.

"With good reason," he retorted sharply. Gesturing towards where his father had disappeared into the woods, he asked, "What the hell's happened to him? I don't even know who he is anymore."

His words brought an abrupt end to the conversation. _No one _knew who he was any more.

"Perhaps _she'll_ find out," Sharon offered in a thoughtful tone.

Kara shook her head. "I don't want to know who he is now. I want the man I knew back."

"Here, here," Helo agreed in an undertone.

"He's there," Sharon asserted confidently.

Kara frowned. Tilting her head to one side, she asked, "What makes you so certain?"

Before Sharon could speak, Helo said, "The old man talked to Sharon a lot over the past year. We were cooped up together for a long time, remember."

Sharon nodded. "The change in him was sudden, but he never lost the desire to question the 'why' of things. The need to understand is a very integral part of him."

"So he's acting like this because...?"

A shrug of her shoulders told Lee she had no idea. "I don't know. But I do know that important parts of him haven't changed. He's put up walls and made descisions he's not sharing, but the man you all knew is still there. The question is why the walls were put up in the first place."

Her words were spoken with such calm assurance that the others could do nothing but silently stare at the spot Adama and Roslin had entered the woods.

As they did, Sharon spoke again. Her voice softly thoughtful, she said, "I told Roslin that she needed to trust him, but perhaps the problem is that he needs to trust _us_, and can't anymore." Her obsidian eyes looking at each one of them in turn, she continued, "The trust he had in us was important to him - it gave him a reference point, a base upon which to build his perceptions and his decisions. One way or another, we've all shown that we _can't_ be trusted. Now that he knows that and has to live with it, how can we expect him to be the same man?" Her eyes grew somber. "Without that trust, he's lost...and so are we."

-xxx-

Laura walked softly, hoping she was going in the right direction. She hesitated, thought she heard a sound, and moved towards it. A few yards further and she spotted him. He stood, legs and hips in a familiar stance, his back to her.

She stopped and waited silently.

"What do you want?" he asked without turning around.

When she didn't reply, he finished, then turned, his hands still in the process of zipping himself up. "Well?" he asked as he stepped towards her.

"I didn't think you heard me following," she said.

He stopped. "I've developed a built-in warning system where you're concerned. It's a self-preservation thing. Helps with my peace of mind."

His words were flippantly said, but his eyes were cold.

Pausing to search for the right words, she took a tentative step towards him and quietly said, "Bill, I don't want us to do this to each other any more."

He looked at her, his face impassive.

"I wasn't aware we were doing anything to each other."

Not waiting for a response, he began walking towards the river. Laura followed a short distance behind him.

When he reached the water's edge a few moments later, he squatted down and rinsed off his hands, then splashed water onto his face. It felt good. He closed his eyes, feeling the freshness of it, enjoying the feel of its coolness slowly warming to his body temperature. Feeling Laura's presence behind him, he kept his position and silently wished she would go away.

She didn't.

"You're lying," she said to his back. "You do know what we're doing to each other, and it's not right. This isn't how it's supposed to be."

He rose and she thought she saw him wince again. He covered it quickly, though, and, tightly reining in his anger, shrugged.

"Don't let it get to you," he said cooly.

Her quick intake of breath in response to his words was audible.

They stood on the mossy bank and regarded each other. The sun was at its zenith now, and shone directly down into the gorge. It warmed the air and awakened a myriad of small, winged creatures fortunately disinterested in human blood. When the small, flying insects moved near, the high-pitched hum of their wings played a counterpoint to the roar of the cascade on their left. Blanketing all other sound, the roar and hum lay heavily around them, pressing into them almost physically.

Feeling almost dizzy, Laura stared at him wordlessly. Even with his anger so strong it was palpable, she could feel herself being drawn to him. There was a heaviness in the air that made her want to lean on him for support, and a richness of colour and a warmth of temperature that made her want to slide her hands along his chest and feel his heart beat against the palms of her hands. She took another step towards him, wanting him to reach out to her, wanting her body to sing beneath his touch, wanting to touch him in return-

She blinked at her train of thoughts. Shaking herself slightly, she resisted the urge to touch him, and blurted out, "People call you Zeus."

He continued to hold her gaze, then slowly seemed to become aware that she had spoken. Replaying what she had said in his mind, he frowned at the non sequitur.

"What?"

"Zeus. That's what people call you," she repeated. "You're their leader, the father of the fleet. The father of what's left of humanity... _and the father of what humanity will become_."

She frowned. That hadn't been what she'd intended to say.

Trying to get back on track, she swallowed. Ignoring the heady humming in her ears, she tried again. "This distance between us; it's wrong."

New Caprica had been wrong, and so had most of what had happened since she had rejoined the fleet. Too much of this discord between them was her fault, and she was only just beginning to understand the extent of her guilt. She'd spent so much time relying on his support that she had forgotten that she owed him hers...

United, they had presented the fleet with a balance to be reckoned with. Apart, the discord between them affected everything. The imbalance had to be corrected. She had to put things right in the way he had always put things right, and her first task was to tune herself to him, correct the wrongs she had committed - even the ones she had committed in the name of the prophecies.

The problem was, she didn't know how.

"_I won't leave the planet without you_," she heard her voice tell him.

She started again, not knowing where the words had come from. Her eyes blinked rapidly. She could feel her heart pounding, feel the throb of her blood coursing through her veins. Of course she wouldn't leave without him; it was why she had come...

He frowned and looked at her warily, wondering how much she had figured out.

"What you want doesn't factor into the equation," he said roughly.

"This isn't how it's supposed to be," she repeated stubbornly. "This is all wrong, Bill. I know it is. You've changed. Everything's changed. I have a right to know why."

He glared at her. "You have no rights at all." Tired of her prophesies and theories and irrational compulsions that led to people he cared about risking their lives, he moved impatiently. Refusing to acknowledge that he had heard a tremor in her voice and seen truth in her eyes, he said, "We are just two people-"

She broke into his words. "We are two people who have been connected in ways that go far beyond being 'just two people'! Neither of us can do what needs to be done for humanity without the other's help, and we're going to continue messing up, continue to sabotage the very thing we're trying to save, if we don't stop this."

His features tightened. "We have stopped. I stopped when I stepped onto this planet," he told her. "You sent Kara and Lee here, and now I'm saying this is over. This planet, your prophesies...it's all over and done with. You will return to the fleet and the journey to Earth will resume. There'll be no more looking back." He took a deep breath, then said heavily, "I'm doing what needs to be done. I'm setting everyone back on course. Humanity needs a home, Laura. Lee and Kara need to be part of that. So do Helo and Sharon."

"_So do you_."

She blinked again, still unsure of where her words were coming from. What she was sure of was that they struck fear in her heart.

Again, something in his eyes told her that her words had disturbed him, as well. He turned his head and looked around "You should get back to the others. I'm going to check the perimeter."

She stared at him, hating him for refusing to engage.

"This conversation isn't over."

He said nothing. Turning, he disappeared into the woods.

End  
Chapter 7


	8. Resolution

Here's the next installment! Sorry for the delay. Work and real life can really play havoc with things, eh?

Thanks muchly for the comments on the last chapter. It was good to hear from people! Just as a reassurance, the end to this_ is_ in sight: I've got chapter 9 pretty much finished, chapter 10 kinda of blocked out (an unexpected scene popped into my head, and I'm dithering about using it) and I have the last two chapters written. It's just the inbetween chapter or two that I have to mess with now! Wish me luck, okay?

Disclaimer: As always, I appreciate the opportunity to take these characters out to play. It's a ton of fun.

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 8**

**Resolution**

The next morning brought with it disappointing news: the cylons had assumed a search grid on the escarpment above them, making it impossible to leave the safety of the gorge. As the time he had hoped to begin their journey to the waiting raptor passed, Adama grew restless, calculating in his head how much time they had left and worrying about how he would now accomplish what he had set out to do.

Keeping her distance, Laura watched him, her concern evident. Beside the concern, however, sat impatience and a subtle hint of anger.

Adama didn't appear to notice.

In their company for almost forty-eight hours now, Lee, Kara, Helo, and Sharon were all too aware of the increasing tension between the two leaders. The way they tended to avoid one another was obvious, and what few discussions they'd both been part of had been cool.

Now the four watched from a discreet distance as a conversation between Adama and the President grew increasingly heated. Though they kept their voices low and their reactions restrained, they were plainly not pleased with one another. Finally, Adama rose abruptly and walked off.

The four younger adults watched wordlessly as the President stared at his retreating back a moment, then stood and, just as she had the day before, strode into the woods after him. The determined look on her face did not bode well for peaceful discourse.

Raising one eyebrow, Kara gave Lee a sideways glance and asked, "Should I intercept her?"

The idea was tempting, but he shook his head slowly. "No. I think we've got to let them be." His eyes thoughtful, he added, "It was bad yesterday, but today..." He shook his head. "I always thought they'd find some sort of common ground."

Kara grunted. "I don't know about the ground; I figured the Admiral's rack," she said, convinced that a good frak would probably help the situation between the two immeasureably.

Not shocked by her bluntness, Lee's face was sombre as he nodded and said, "I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd hooked up that way. They've always had a weird connection, and there are things about her that remind me of both my mother and Anne."

Kara's eyes widened in surprise at Lee's mention of Adama's second wife. Her attention diverted, she turned her head towards him. "I didn't know you even knew her."

"I didn't, not really," he admitted, "but I met her a few times. Only once, I think, before she married my father. Afterwards, she only came with him a few times." He shrugged, and admitted, "I wasn't very nice to her. Nothing was said, but I guess Dad just decided not to put her through it. Or maybe it was her decision, and she didn't want to deal with my attitude. Anyway, when I got older, life was busy and I just wasn't interested. I usually saw Dad on his ship, or he visited me at the academy or whatever." He looked down at his hands. "And after Zak died, I wouldn't have seen her because Dad and I had stopped speaking."

"_You'd_ stopped speaking, you mean," she reminded him automatically. Looking at the spot where Laura had disappeared into the undergrowth, she did a brief mental comparison of Caroline and Anne - whom she'd met twice, when dating Zak - and the President. "I liked Anne," she finally said. "For a woman used to getting her own way, she was surprisingly nice. She was very confident in herself, and definitely loved your father. I never saw them together, but they both seemed happy."

When Lee said nothing, she continued, "She was smart, and from the stories he's told me, she could make him laugh." She paused, her lips curving as she remembered. Then, shaking herself from her thoughts, she took a quick breath. "Not many people can do that," she said, her smile fading. Taking a sideways glance at him, she added, "Zak liked her."

Lee made no response. Zak and he had disagreed on a number of points, Anne being one of them. Whereas Lee had been quite content to either ignore the woman's existence or hate her on principle alone, Zak had quietly accepted her, and had even stayed at Anne and his father's home occasionally. Lee, of course, had always adamantly refused. Eventually, 'Anne' had simply become something neither of the two brothers spoke about.

He sighed, wondering if all his choices had been wise ones.

Kara looked at Lee and felt sadness press at her gut - not over what Lee might have missed, but at Adama's loss. No one - not even his son - had given a thought about what the senior Adama had felt when Caprica had been destroyed. Everyone had considered him lucky, thinking his home had been on the _Galactica_ and that with his one remaining son alive and with him, he had lost nothing.

Everyone forgot about his life beyond his ship - they forgot about Anne and his life with her because, after the horribly public breakup of his first marriage, he had carefully kept his second marriage private. It had been something that both he and Anne had agreed upon early in their life together. That it had worked for them appeared evident:He wore the ring that had bound him to her still.

"She was dying," she told Lee quietly. "I didn't know, of course, until months after I met your father. We were talking, and I told him I had met her, and said I was sorry not to have seen her at the funeral. He told me she hadn't been able to come - she'd been in the hospital. That was at the very onset of things. The last year or so, she began to lose ground more quickly. I think the one thing that kept him sane when he knew Caprica had been written off and that she was dead was that he could tell hlimself she hadn't needed to suffer any more."

Lee stilled. He hadn't known. And he'd never stopped to think what his father must have been felt at losing his wife during the cylon onslaught. Taking a deep breath, however, he hardened his heart and shook his head. "So she was dying alone. That's so like my father. Run away to his ship-"

Kara sighed in frustration. "He wasn't running away. He didn't know the end of the world was coming._ He was retiring, _for gods' sakes. To be with her"

Lee's expression changed slightly. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't."

Her voice was cool. She thought maybe no matter how much she loved Lee, she would never forgive the pain he had caused his father at a time when he had least needed or deserved it.

"I never really thought about what sort of life they had together," he admitted. "I was never part of it." He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. "Hell, I was barely part of my father's."

Kara bit her tongue to prevent herself from responding, and let Lee ponder things a little more.

Looking at the spot where the two had entered the woods, he finally said, "No wonder Roslin's cancer affected him so much. They'd become friends, and then to watch her dying..." His voice trailed off.

Kara nodded. Following his gaze, she asked, "So what do we do about them now?"

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Lee stuck to his original opinion. "Nothing," he said. "They've got to sort this out themselves."

Kara sighed. It was against her nature to leave things alone. She loved Adama, and had grown to respect and like the President. Together, the two of them had kept the fleet united and safe. With the Admiral the way he was, however, and Roslin not quite herself, either, she felt a new uncertainty about the future.

"What do you suppose they have to fight about?" Lee asked quietly.

Kara looked at him askance. "Remember the scrolls we came here to look for? Maybe she's upset we've totally ignored our mission since we arrived here. She may not feel that hiding out from the cylons is enough of an excuse not to be looking for them. Maybe she wants to have a go at finding them and he's saying forget it."

"She'd have said something to us," Lee said.

She nodded in agreement. "I think you're right. Which means I really have no idea what they have to argue about." Her face turning pensive, she told him, "The scrolls aren't important to her anymore. The focus has changed. I don't understand it, but something tells me that all that's really important right now is what's going on between the two of them." She stopped, then shook her head. "They can't continue to be at odds with each other all the time. They're going to have to work out whatever it is they're dealing with."

Lee grunted. "Easy to say; harder to do. Dad's stuck right now. I don't think he's paying much attention to Roslin or their arguments. Hell, he's not paying much attention to anyone."

After a moment's silence, Kara looked at the woods uncertainly and asked, "You're not worried they'll run across cylons?"

"Dad knows what he's doing. I figure they're more likely to kill each other than to be killed by cylons."

She shot him a look. "Not funny, Lee."

"Sorry," he apologised. In a more serious vein, he told her, "I think Dad's pretty sure the cylons aren't interested in looking down here."

"He knows something we don't?" Helo asked.

Lee and Kara started in surprise. Engrossed in their conversation, they had forgotten there were others within hearing range. Looking over at the lieutenant, Lee said, "Most likely. He found us, didn't he? And knew how to avoid the cylon search party. And he has our means of escape." He shrugged, and his eyes took on a faraway look. "He's different right now, though. Even if you factor in the change in him since we left New Caprica, there's something else going on with him, something he's not telling us." He moved restlessly, then stood. Looking down at the others, he said, "I'll be glad when we're all back on the _Galactica_ and heading for Earth again. I'd kill for a little normalcy."

Helo grunted. "I'm not sure I remember what that looks like. Do you?"

-xxx-

Laura stopped uncertainly. After spending so much time in the confines of gray metal spaceships, it was beautiful here on a scale that was almost awe-inspiring. High overhead, streams of golden light shone through the spreading tree branches and rippled their way down to the green, moist ground below. Here and there, broad-leafed bushes trembled as gentle, random breezes caressed them in passing. Looking about her, she paused to wonder at how strangely quiet it was. There were no signs of animal or bird life, and the sound of the waterfall seemed merely a distant groan. She wrapped her arms around herself. The air itself had a presence, each tree and rock and hillock seeming to have an aura that radiated a purpose she could not quite understand. Feeling small and insignificant and oddly disquieted, she examined her surroundings, wondering which direction Bill would have taken. Moving uneasily and feeling as though the planet itself watched her, she turned her steps in the direction of the river.

A few moments later, she stood on its bank and started in surprise when a gravelly voice behind her asked, "Why are you following me this time?"

Dropping the hand that had flown to her chest, she turned and said, "Who said I was?"

Bill looked at her.

Her eyes dropped. "Okay. That was stupid." She paused, then looked at him directly. "I refuse to stop trying."

His eyes narrowed. She had no idea what she had done to him. She had left him hanging for twelve months, effortlessly cut him totally out of her life, refused communication of any kind, and blithely ripped him apart a little more each day with her silence. Her decision had been unilateral and had been a betrayal so personal that he had done the only thing he could do to stay emotionally stable. He'd cut himself off from his feelings and carried on in the vacuum her absence had created.

... and now she was back, devilling his days with her betrayals and his nights with memories. The way she had left him, followed by the way she'd reappeared and acted as though betrayal had never happened...the way she insisted on insinuating herself back into his life...

He couldn't allow it. Not then, and certainly not now. Not now that his decision had been made.

"You refuse to stop trying?" he repeated. "You're not trying. You're nagging. Give it up, Laura."

The bitterness in his voice cut her.

"Bill-"

He raised his hand. "Stop. I don't know why you're doing this, any more than I understand why you've done half the things you've done, but your hounding me won't change anything. Just be thankful there's a way off this planet and that you're going to be on it. This will be over soon, and you'll be able to concentrate of getting everyone to Earth."

She stared at him, her breath catching in her throat as the thought suddenly hit her that perhaps the distance between them had grown so great that it might never be breached.

What would she do then?

Looking at him, she felt the fear of that slide down her spine. How could they go on this way? How could she look to the future with anything but dread if this was what they would continue to be to each other? She felt tears of loss and frustration well up in her eyes, and turned her head away quickly while she tried to regain her self-control.

Clenching her fists, she inhaling sharply, gritted her teeth, and grasped desperately at her frustration and anger. Turning, she railed at him: "You are so frakking stubborn! We can't go on like this!" She stopped, and angrily wiped a tear from her cheek. "There's got to be something-"

He looked at her, refusing to allow himself to be moved. It was too late, he told himself. Too late to change anything. When he saw her lift a hand to brush away a tear, his face tightened. Interrupting her flow of words, he asked, "Is this a new tactic? You think crying is going to help you get your way?"

The words and the scorn with which they were laced snapped what little control Laura had left. Drawing her hands up swiftly, she hit his chest with clenched fists. He stood with his arms at his sides and made no move to stop her. When he didn't respond, she growled in frustration and hit him again. And again. Soon, she was pummelling his chest with both fists.

"I hate you!" she said, punctuating her words by slamming her fists against him rhythmically. "Listen to me! You can't do this!"

After withstanding her blows for as long as he felt necessary, Bill grabbed her wrists. Undaunted, she continued to struggle against him.

Enraged at being trapped and still trying to hit him, she cried out, "Gods, why don't you _feel _anything? Dammit! _React_ to something!" Twisting within his grasp angrily, she demanded, "What happened to you?"

He held her hands up above shoulder height so that she could not gain purchase to kick, and their bodies crashed against each other. She moved against him, pushing against him with her body, trying to throw him off balance. "Let go of me!" she exclaimed as she threw herself futilely against him.

Her movements against him slowed as physical awareness of him reached her brain.

"Let go," she said, her voice less forceful.

Suddenly overwhelmed, her motions ceased completely. His hands were warm and strong on her wrists; his face was inches from hers, his body tightly pressed to hers. She could smell his scent, warm and familiar and totally his. Mesmerised by the stormy blue of his eyes, she listened to her heart beat madly in her ears and struggled to take a ragged breath.

With a sharp, sudden scream, something familiar and white hot awakened between them.

As though on cue, awareness of their surroundings crashed over them, the air abruptly filling with the sound of falling water and winged creatures and rustling leaves. Unconsciously, they both inhaled quickly..

Then their mouths crashed together.

End  
Chapter 8


	9. Reaction

I apologise for the "M' rating. I just couldn't see doing it any other way. Hope you enjoy, and can forgive the end of the chapter...

Disclaimer: They're still not my characters, but...

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 9**

**Reaction**

There was nothing in his first response to her but anger, followed quickly by need and frustration and a desire to punish.

And still their mouths clashed hungrily.

Slowly, he lowered their hands. Their bodies strained against one another, hard against soft, their breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

_She had betrayed him. Lied to him. Left him._

He let go of her wrists and grabbed the hair on the back of her head with one hand. His other arm wrapped around her and held her firmly as their kiss deepened.

His teeth bruised her lips, his tongue probed her mouth..

_He was furious at her._

_He couldn't get enough of her._

The world that had so suddenly begun to spin out of control around them just as suddenly stopped. After a long, breathless pause, the synergy of air and plant and rock and planet gathered itself, channelling though their bodies to explode in a sudden, heated flare of desire...

Mindlessly consumed by the need for more of him, Laura unzipped his jacket. Running her hands over his chest, she lifted his undershirts and wrapped an arm around him. Lifting a trembling hand to pull his head close, her nails raked the back of his neck as she pressed her mouth against his.

_She needed him._

_Wanted him. _

_And would have him, because what had happened before would happen again._

She would have him here, on the ground of Kobol, just as she had before... Nothing was more important...

He undid her pants and slipped his palms around the curve of her backside as he nuzzled her neck. Drawing her close to him, he heard her softly moan as she struggled to stay close to him while stepping out of her boots. She strained against him, welcoming the heated blush of desire that coursed through her. Free of her own lower garments, she undid his trousers, her hand immediately seeking and encircling his hardness. Pressing the heel of her hand against it, her whole body shuddered in anticipation of having him inside her.

Their hands busy, their mouths still crashing together in bruising kisses, they slowly sank to the forest floor. She lay beneath him. Spreading her legs in welcome, she sighed as he settled himself between them. Guiding him into her, she wrapped long, slender legs firmly around him.

Home. He was home.

_There was power in this. Strength in this._

_And there was healing... _

At first his movements were a punishment, a release of anger and grief and loss, but it was also a healing, and it was hers to give.Welcoming the thought, she gave it gladly.

_She forgave him. Could he forgive her? _

He held her, bruising her flesh until, with a groan, he pushed against her and held. He felt her arch and move slightly to welcome his orgasm. Groaning her name, he gradually relaxed and slid out of her. Slowly rolling off of her, he turned onto his back and wordlessly stared at the sky.

_And discovered he had not had enough. _

Laura lay beside him, her body bruised and more vibrantly alive than it had been in far too long. She wanted more of him, wanted not to stop now but to continue until they were where they had once been, until they had put right what had gone so wrong. Hope burgeoned inside her. She had seen a glimmer in his eyes of what he had once been.

Had seen something of what he had once felt...

Unbidden, tears welled in her eyes. She wanted him more than life.

Needed him more than life.

And now, lying next to him, knew she had never felt his absence more deeply.

When he moved onto his side and rose up on his elbow, she looked up at him with dark eyes. His hand reached down to touch her and she started in surprise, tightening her legs together.

"Let me touch you," he ordered.

Slowly, she relaxed.

He bent his head and caressed her mouth with his lips while his fingers explored her. With a touch so light it was a pleasurable torture that made her moan, he fondled her while his mouth trailed kisses along her throat. Using her moistness and the moistness he had left in her, he created a slick, delicious contact that made her open her legs and strain against his hand as her sensitivity to his touch heightened.

Pressing herself against his fingers, she lifted an arm to hold his head against her, revelling in the feel of his mouth against her skin. Trembling, she exhaled a small whimper of desire. Her hand reached to grip his arm and she groaned when, leaving her thobbing and needy, he abruptly stopped his ministrations.

She clutched at him tightly, willing him to love her again.

-xxx-

He rose and moved to kneel between her legs once more. He knew this was impossible, knew that there was nothing natural in his being hard and ready for her again so soon. He even knew that her response to him was somehow different, that her wantoness was somehow heightened in ways he couldn't define... but he didn't care and refused to question. Driven by a desire so intense and heated it pulsed through his veins like a wildfire, he moved over her. Taking joy in the eager, ready way she welcomed him back, he thrust into her again, exalting in the power of their union.

He moved inside her - long, controlled strokes this time; delicious, languorous movements that allowed them to savour and heighten their pleasure. Anger gone, the past and present ignored, they clung to each other, two souls capturing a rhythm both primal and uniquely their own.

When he heard her breath catch softly and felt her grip on him grow harder, he gave himself up to his clamouring senses. She tightened around him rhythmically and they both stilled as the sought-for cataclysm swept them away...

Voices finally united, they cried out.

Some faraway, muddled part of his brain felt her hold him as he spilled his seed into her. Slowly, he relaxed against her body.

-xxx-

The gorge was deep and the underbrush virtually impenetrable in some spots. The falls that cascaded down into it blocked out sound, making it not only the perfect place to hide from cylons but also a place difficult to find people you were concerned for.

An hour after Roslin and his father had disappeared into the woods, Lee had finally admitted, "I think perhaps we'd better go find them after all."

A good while later, after taking random paths here and there and seeing no sign of either his father or the President, he began to reconsider his decision. "We'll never find them," he complained to Kara. "We should probably leave them alone, anyway. We don't really need to see them fight."

"Shhh..." Kara lifted her chin and turned her head to listen carefully. Leaves rustled gently in a barely-there afternoon breeze. The roar of the waterfall blocked out most sound, but-

"This way," she whispered.

They'd gone only a few metres when Kara stopped again. She could see the swiftly moving water of the river through the thickly-leavened undergrowth and moved towards it. When she stepped onto the cleared bank, she followed the flowing water with her eyes. Farther down along the river's bank, she saw and recognised two bodies. Roslin lay on the mossy ground, her hair spread like a halo around her head. Adama lay over her. The President's slender arms were wrapped around him, and though Kara could not completely see them, there was no mistaking their position or the movements they were making.

She stood, blinking, then slowly turned her eyes away.

Taking a few steps away from the water, she said in a soft voice, "I think maybe we should go back now."

Lee came to stand beside her. "Go back? I thought-"

Her expression soft, Kara put a hand up and covered his lips with her fingertips.

"They've stopped fighting, Lee. It's going to be okay."

Curious, he glanced in the direction she had been looking. He took a step forward, but Kara stopped him.

"Lee, I don't think-"

"What?" he asked.

"They'd not fighting," she said, still not letting him move forward. Unable to come up with a way of saying what she had seen, she held his gaze, willing him to figure it out. "They're _definitely_ not fighting. I think we should head back now."

He looked at her, puzzled.

"I was wrong," she explained patiently. "They didn't need the Admiral's rack. They're doing just fine with the ground."

His eyes widened.

"Oh," he said. He blushed slightly and stepped back. There were some things he could happily live without seeing. Swallowing awkwardly, he said, "I guess we should go back, then."

Smiling, Kara nodded.

-xxx-

They lay together silently, too spent to question anything about what had just transpired. Thankful for the warm sun still angling down onto them, they rested in apparent contentment, Roslin's head on Adama's shoulder, her hand resting on his chest.

Adama stared at the sky. He could feel the warmth of the ground beneath him and the softness of the body that pressed against him...

Slowly, as his thoughts gained coherance, he realised what he had done. He grimaced, wondering how he could have allowed himself to make such a mistake; how he had managed to frak an already difficult situation into something even worse.

Sex on the ground of Kobol had solved nothing.

And changed nothing.

What had to be done would be done.

Slowly, reluctantly, Adama moved. Disengaging himself gently from her, he stood. Finding his pants, he put them on. Zipping them up, he looked down at her, his expression unreadable.

"This was a mistake. I'm sorry."

He truly was.

She had been watching him sleepily, enjoying the quiet moment. Dismayed by his words, her eyes widened.

"No," she said.

When he didn't respond, but instead began to do up his shirt, she felt a desperate anger rise inside her.

"No," she insisted again. Rising up on her elbows, she said, "This was _not_ a mistake." It had been a step forward, a beginning...

She watched him continue to arrange his shirt. When he was finished, she put her hand out in a silent request for him to help her up.

He looked at it and stilled. An expression she couldn't interpret crossed his face, and then, slowly, he leaned forward and stretched out his hand to meet it.

When he pulled her to her feet, she met his eyes and stepped closer to him.

"This was no mistake, Bill," she repeated. Reaching up, she softly touched his face. "We needed to do this. It was right. We need to feel these feelings again. We need to regain what we had. It's there. I know it is. You've got to trust in it."

He stood, silently regarding her. She could see that he was waiting, but for what, she wasn't sure. Not knowing scared and frustrated her, so she said the first thing that came into her head.

"I love you."

The words, unadorned and clearly spoken, glittered in the air between them like crystals.

Bill looked at her. He seemed stunned at first, then his expression became pained and he backed away.

"Don't," he said. "Don't say that."

Turning, he walked away.

End  
Chapter 9

The path of true love and all that...


	10. Decisions

First things first: I'm not entirely happy about this chapter. I've re-written it almost entirely twice, and after all that trouble have opted for the first version. I still don't know if it was the right decision, but since this is a chapter about choices, perhaps that's appropriate.

Disclaimer: They're not mine and I appreciate that Ron says I can play with them. Besides, what he doesn't know can't hurt him, right?

Thank you for the support and the reviews. They make me smile...

**Too High a Cost  
By: Mariel **

-xxxxxxxxxx-**  
**

**Chapter 10**

**Decisions **

Adama returned to the camp looking remote and unapproachable. Saying nothing to the others, he walked over to his rucksack and pulled out his maps. Spreading them on the uneven ground in front of him, he bent his head and began to study them.

No one dared approach him. Posture, expression, his very aura...everything about him warned 'stay away'. Knowing the time was drawing near that they would be forced to leave the protection of their river gorge, they knew what he was doing and had to be content with the knowledge that he would tell them what he planned in his own good time. What had put him in the mood he was in, they had no idea.

Almost thirty minutes passed before Roslin appeared. Her features carefully controlled, she walked past Adama without looking at him.

He did not look up as she passed.

Lee and Kara shared a shocked glance.

_What the hell had happened?_

-xxx-

After spending more than an hour wordlessly pouring over his maps, Bill brought one over to where the others had settled themselves. Laying it on the ground in front of them, he said quietly, "We're going to leave at first light tomorrow."

Having got their attention, he continued, "Cylon actvity has been far more persistent than I anticipated. That may mean they're aware of who's here on the planet," he said with a pointed look at Roslin. "We can't afford to have the President captured, and it's imperative that we make our rendevous time with the _Galactica_. I want everyone aboard the raptor and headed for the ship in a little over thirty-six hours."

Reaching across the map, he indicated a place on the top of the escarpment. "The cylons are concentrating their presence here, around the tomb area," he told them. "That means we have to avoid the escarpment completely. We'll need to take a more circuitous route to where I've left the raptor, and travel along the river to here," he said as his finger trailed along the river.

He paused where the river branched off into two, then turned and let his finger travel along the curved base of the escarpment. "We'll avoid where the two raptors went down, because the cylons will have stationed sentries near them, and follow along here," he told them. His finger crossed the map. "We should be able to reach the clearing here," he said, "without detection." Moving his hand slightly, he tapped another spot. "We'll be most vulnerable to observation here," he said, indicating a fairly open area approaching the clearing he had left the raptor beside. "If we manage to remain undetected though that, it'll be clear sailing the rest of the way to the raptor."

"That's a lot of ground to cover," Helo remarked.

Adama nodded. "About twice as much as what I'd hoped to have to travel, but as I said, the top of the escarpment's off limits; they're expecting us there. If we leave first thing tomorrow, travel fast and keep rest breaks to a minimum, we'll make it with a few hours to spare." He looked at them and admitted, "I misjudged what the cylons would do. I'd hoped they'd have moved elsewhere by now."

When he stopped speaking, the others looked at the map and began discussing what needed to be done before their departure. Sharon Valerii remained silent and eyed the Admiral appraisingly. He'd left very important tactical information out of his plan.

She had a terrible feeling she knew why.

-xxx-

An hour before dark, Bill rose. "I'm going to take a last look around for the night." Looking at the dwindling stock of firewood, he added, "I'll pick up a bit more wood for the fire on the way back."

Sharon looked up at him. "Mind if I come with you, sir?"

For an infinitesimal second he paused. Then he nodded. "I'd appreciate the help," he told her.

Paying no attention to the curious looks the others gave them, Adama and Valerii walked away from the campsite.

-xxx-

Kara knew Lee was looking at her to gauge her reaction to his father and Sharon leaving. She, however, was concentrating on Roslin, trying to figure out what had happened in the time between the President and Adama making love beside the river and their tense, separate return. Neither of them had even looked at one another unless absolutely necessary, and Adama had been downright obvious in his attempts to keep himself as far removed from her as possible. Roslin, in turn, had maintained her distance and not engaged in conversation. Looking at the two of them, Kara thought both looked like hell.

Remembering their bodies entwined on the riverbank, Kara shook her head and finally looked at Lee helplessly.

A good frak obviously hadn't been the answer.

-xxx-

As soon as they were out of hearing range of the others, Valerii looked sideways at Adama and asked, "Permission to speak freely, Admiral?"

He nodded.

Wanting to get the obvious thing out of the way first, she asked, "You're not afraid to be alone with me?"

"Would my being afraid change anything?"

"Perhaps not, but it's always good to be a little afraid," she observed calmly.

"You were afraid, when you arrived here," he noted in the same tone.

She looked at him quickly, surprised.

He smiled at her reaction. "We've gotten to know one another fairly well, lieutenant. I can read you some of the time, at least."

Her eyes glittered. "Another thing we have in common," she observed. "I can read you, too." She sobered. This glimpse of the old Adama's warmth was being allowed for a reason, and the reason saddened her. "I'm not happy with everything I see, though," she finally added.

Knowing what she was getting at, he ignored her last words. Remembering when she and Helo had first appeared with the President in tow, he said, "We were both worried about the same thing when you arrived. I assume your asking to come along with me tonight means either you've decided now is the time to shoot me dead, or that shooting me isn't in your programming and you've decided you just felt like a walk."

He turned his head to look at her. "Which is it?"

"I can't really say," she told him honestly.

He glanced at her sidearm and raised a shaggy eyebrow. "Not feeling any violent urges at the moment, are you?" he asked dryly.

In spite of knowing why he was being so much his old self, a real grin brightened her face. She couldn't tell if he were brave, stupid, or just recklessly crazy, but she didn't really care.

"No, sir," she said, "not at the moment."

He nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Then we might as well get some wood."

Turning, he began to walk away.

His easy acceptance that she wouldn't kill him disconcerted her and confirmed that what she had suspected was true: he already considered himself a dead man.

Stepping over the exposed root of a tree, she followed him, saying, "I have another question."

Looking back at her with dark eyes, he continued to move forward. In a slightly resigned tone, he admitted, "I thought you might. Ask away, lieutenant."

"I know what you left out of the plan you gave us this afternoon. Are you really going to go through with this?"

He didn't ask her to clarify her question. Instead, he looked away. His pace slowed, and after a moment's thought, he stopped and turned to face her. "I have to. It's the only choice, and it's mine to make."

He half wished he could tell her what a relief it was to finally know what was going to happen - and how glad he was to let them continue on without him.

"You knew you were going to do this before you left _Galactica_," she said.

He turned away and resumed walking. "I knew that coming here would involve certain risks," he corrected, the remoteness in his tone warning her off.

She heeded his warning, but only partially. "Has it never occurred to you that it may not be your choice to make? Elosha didn't choose to die, sir. Neither did either of Zarek's buddies. It's the gods who decide whose blood is taken in payment."

He grunted and moved the thick branch of a spreading bush aside for her. "You're starting to sound as though you believe in all the gods and prophecy and planet curse nonsense."

"And you don't?" she responded quickly. She let the branch spring back into place behind her."You're convinced you're going to die here," she said, relieved to finally say the words aloud. "When you saw me show up with Helo, you thought I'd be the means of your death. I know, because I saw the forgiveness in your eyes. Now you're not so certain it'll be me that kills you - and you've chosen a scenario that is bound to end up in your death. You're determined to die here. All that's left is the waiting."

Adama didn't argue with her. "I've weighed the options. This is the best choice."

She didn't believe that for a moment, but knew he did. Continuing with her argument, she said, "But the choice still isn't yours to make. The Fates determine who will die and who will not."

He drew to a halt near a fallen tree he thought would serve his purpose and calmly took out a collapsible saw.

"Not if I make the choice first," he said gruffly.

She stopped and stared at him. After a shocked silence, she said, "You think offering yourself as a _sacrifice_ is the answer? Your gods don't ask for sacrifices; they haven't for a thousand years," she said, gesturing with her arms. "Sacrificing yourself doesn't make sense." Shaking her head, she said, "No. This is wrong, sir. It exacts too high a cost."

His gravelly voice was gentle when he responded. "My priority at the moment is to make sure you people get safely back to the_ Galactica._ Doing that isn't going to be easy - I knew that when I came for Kara and Lee. It's going to be more difficult still with three more bodies to maneuver without being detected. Someone needs to divert the cylons away from where I've put the raptor. I'm the logical one to do that."

"I don't agree."

"And I'm not asking you to," he said patiently. Resting his hand on a branch of the fallen tree, he continued, "But I do expect you to do what I order when the time comes. Providing," he said, with a flash of humour, "you don't open fire on me first."

She looked at him confidently. "I won't," she promised. "I don't know how I know I won't," she admitted, "but I won't."

His eyes warmed. "And I believe you. So help me when the time comes. Get everyone to the raptor, Sharon. Get them safely back to _Galactica_."

She fleetingly considered taking out her gun and giving him a flesh wound to prevent him from following through on this madness of his, but knew she would not.

Taking her thoughtful silence for agreement, he turned and began to saw at one of the fallen tree's branches.

Sharon moved to help. "There are always alternative solutions, sir," she said softly.

He paused a moment, then resumed sawing. "Not this time," he said.

-xxx-

They worked in silence until they had enough logs to suit their needs. Gathering them up in the quickly growing darkness, Bill turned to Valerii. So much had passed between them since Boomer had attempted to kill him and this Sharon had arrived with Helo and a baby inside her. He felt gratified that what they had built between them had survived the disaster Roslin had created over her infant. Squashing down the coil of anger that still gripped his heart when he thought of Laura's deception and the unspeakable, brutal pain it had caused Helo and Sharon, he forced himself to think instead of how valiantly_ this_ woman had risen above everything life had thrown at her.

He was proud of her. Sharon Valerii was proof that great adversities could be overcome with the right spirit.

And with the trust of others to support it.

His voice rumbling gently, he said, "It's very important that our conversation be kept confidential, Sharon. Please. This is all going to unfold as it's meant to. It would be pointless for the others to know." He paused. He had thought to speak to Helo, but Sharon would do just as well. "There's one more thing we need to talk about," he said in a low tone.

When he was finished, she nodded sadly, knowing she'd choose to do what he asked, no matter how much she hated it.

He moved ahead of her when the glow of the campfire came into view. Watching his back, she wished with all her might that this had not been the time he'd decided to fully trust in her once again.

-xxx-

Sensing his wife's disquiet and thinking it might be because she was tired, Helo suggested that they turn inearly for the night. The others, restless with anticipation over the next day's travel, remained by the fire to talk. Sitting beside Lee on the opposite side of the fire, Laura 's attention became fixed on Bill and Kara. The two talked easily, their smiles and postures relaxed and open. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but the murmur of their voices drifted over to them, mixed with the sounds of rustling tree leaves and crackling fire. The whole scene made her feel a myriad of emotions, not all of which she could identify, and not all of which she felt comfortable with. Bill was different tonight - she could sense a change in him, but she couldn't tell what had caused it or what the ramifications of it would be.

It made her uneasy.

Sensing a similar disquiet in the man sitting next to her, she turned and caught a look of sadness before Lee had a chance to hide it. Understanding what she had glimpsed, she kept her voice low and said gently, "It's a good thing, Lee. They're good for each other."

He kept his eyes focussed on the two sitting across from them. Adjusting his grip on the stick he held in his hand, he needlessly poked at the fire. "Really."

She nodded. Speaking softly, she explained, "She needs a father and he needs to be one. He's a man who needs to be trusted, and she's a woman who needs to trust. And of all the people in her life, she's only ever been able to completely trust him."

She smiled ruefully. When Adama's 'lie' about Earth's existence had turned out to be true, there had been no shaking Kara's restored faith in him. She had become convinced that somehow the gods had worked through him, and that though he hadn't known he had been telling the truth, he hadn't been lying and therefore hadn't really lied. It was convoluted thinking, but suited Kara to perfection.

She felt a stab of regret over the rift her machinations could have permanently caused between the two Sharon had been right: she hadn't always considered the price those involved in her plans might have to pay.

Oblivious to the scrutiny they were under, Bill and Kara were deep in conversation. A hint of a smile crossed the Admiral's craggy, flame-warmed features and Kara laughed and briefly leaned her shoulder against his affectionately. His voice rumbled, and she laughed.

"It's been quite a while since I've seen him smile," Lee said suddenly, his voice sounding small and wistful. He turned his gaze towards the President, and admitted, "I don't even remember when he stopped. What does that say about me as a son? Not that he's ever smiled a lot, but it was six months into the settlement of New Caprica before I noticed he wasn't himself. I kept looking for excuses. Dualla told me something was wrong, but I wouldn't listen to her. Didn't want to listen to her," he admitted.

It was the first time she'd heard Dualla's name cross his lips since the exodus from New Caprica. Not wanting to draw attention to that fact, she said, "He's your father, Lee. I don't think any child notices an awful lot about their parents."

"Kara would have."

"But Kara is a special circumstance, don't you think?"

She knew she was right. Wanting to understand the strange closeness Bill and Kara shared, she had spent considerable effort trying to discover the roots of their relationship. She'd never made much headway. Neither seemed willing to discuss the other, so eventually she'd given up, accepting their connection without being able to explain it.

Lee moved restlessly. Kara _was_ special to his father - and that was another sore point with him, because he didn't understand why. There was something between her and his father that just clicked. Some shared experience or some shared insight...whatever it was, it was something beyond him, and he envied it. Being left on the outside looking in hurt.

He thought back to his father's appearance here, remembering Kara's easy, gentle gibing of his father about taking two shots to kill the cylon. Picturing the rare, fleeting smile that had crossed his father's face then, he grimaced. Never in a million years would anyone else have dared to tease the Old Man like that. Especially not now. And never in a million years would his father have reacted the way he had with anyone but Kara. It wasn't fair, it didn't make sense, and he knew he was jealous of it.

Laura looked at Lee and resisted the urge to touch him arm in sympathy. She knew he cared for the young woman who sat so comfortably with his father, and could guess at the conflicted emotions he felt. His father and Kara were the two people he loved most in the universe, but he shared none of the easy-going rapport with them that they shared with each other.

Turning her gaze back towards Bill, Laura fought against a sense of hopelessness. Strange how both she and Lee needed this man to fill them up and make them whole. How filled with irony that they had repeatedly taken his trust and used it against him, never expecting that at some point he might withdraw that trust, and with it, his love. And now they were left empty and with no means to regain what he had once so readily given. Flinching at the hollowness she felt inside, she looked away.

-xxx-

Adama raised his eyes and looked across the fire. "Lee," he said in a gruff, relaxed voice. "You should hear the stories Kara is telling. You might want to come defend yourself."

Laura felt Lee stiffen in surprise and smiled. "That's your invitation," she murmured softly. "Take it."

Seeing the welcome in his father's eyes, Lee rose and joined the other two. When he sat down, he looked across the flames and felt his heart sink when he saw that Roslin had quietly disappeared. A nudge from Kara, however, turned his attention to more immediate matters, and he soon found himself arguing a few of the finer but more interesting points of Kara's recall. Before long, in counterpoint to his father's gruff chuckles, his laughter joined Kara's.

Curling up in her bedsack, Laura closed her eyes. Listening to the murmur of conversation that drifted to her on the cooling night air, she fought against her loneliness and tried not to think about the day's events. At least he was talking to them; at least he had smiled and opened up somewhat.

But not to her.

For her, there seemed no forgiveness.

-xxx-

Back at the fire, Bill felt Laura's absence like a wound, but took comfort in these last, precious moments with his children. Looking at their smooth faces in the flickering firelight, he took satisfaction in knowing he was doing the right thing

The gods he didn't believe in would exact their price, but no cost was too high if it meant he could protect them.

Life would go on.

_Their _lives would go on.

And that, when all was said and done, was all that mattered.

End  
Chapter 10


	11. Redound

Thanks for all the reviews and comments! You guys rock. Totally.

This chapter has a bit more action in it. Hopefully I've parlayed what was in my head onto paper well enough that it makes sense...

Disclaimer: I'm still playing and no one's complaining, so...have another chapter...And t

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 11**

**Redound **(not rebound...)

_What a difference a day makes,_ Bill thought as another wet branch shook its water onto his head. The rain had started sometime during the night, and hadn't let up since. Gone were the gentle beams of sunshine dancing their way through lazily moving trees. Now a cold rain fell, and shivering leaves and branches dripped water onto a wet world stripped of colour and warmth.

In spite of the precipitation and poor visibility, the sky had been filled with cylon raiders since daybreak. Knowing the time constraint they were under and carrying with them only the bare necessities, they pushed forward carefully, ignoring as best they could the cold and damp that slowly worked its way into their bones.

They moved quickly, legs moving automatically now that they had been travelling for so long.

Moving forward had become as automatic as straining for breath and listening to their heartbeats drum a thudding tattoo in their ears. Muscles aching, they worked hard to keep a pace two beats faster than comfortable. As the day had worn on, their mood had become more desperate. They had run into a number of random cylon patrols after leaving the relative safety of the gorge, and avoiding them had been time-consuming. Now, as they drew closer to the raptor, Adama's worry about being spotted increased. Though the number of cylon fighters flying overhead had inexplicably decreased as the day progressed, the ground patrols continued to pose a problem. He grimaced. Encountering another pair of cylons tramping through the forest could ruin their chances of reaching the raptor in time.

Glancing at the others, he quickened his pace. Soon, they'd be at a place he would be able to send them on alone, and he needed to do that before darkness set in.

Lee, who had taken point some time ago, stopped suddenly and raised a hand. "Shhh" he cautioned them, "I-"

Shots rained through the trees at them.

They swung around to their left, hit the wet ground, and fired in the direction of two approaching cylons. The cylons continued firing, but stopped their forward movement to assess the strength of the opposing gunfire. When a well-placed shot from someone's gun threw one of the cylons back against the other, the small group rose and raced through the undergrowth, putting as much distance between them and the enemy as they could.

Eventually, they slowed to a stop."I think maybe we killed one of them," Lee gasped, cursing the extra weight he'd put on over the past year. Bending over, he rested his hands on his knees and fought to catch his breath.

Adama's pulse rang in his ears. Struggling to control his breathing, he rasped, "Even if that's the case, we're still in trouble. The remaining one will track us. It'll also call in reinforcements."

Knowing now was the time, he straightened and addressed the group.

"We can't afford to have the cylons follow us to the raptor. I'm going to wait here. I'll set them off track by leading them in the opposite direction, towards that rise," he said, raising a rain-soaked arm to point in the direction he intended to go. "If I head towards the outcropping we travelled on during our first visit here, the cylons will assume they know our intended destination and concentrate part of their attention there. That will give you a chance to get to the raptor. Helo, I want you and Sharon to leave first and get it ready to go."

He then turned to Kara and Lee. "Kara, Lee - give Helo and Sharon a head start so that you're not all travelling together. It's your job to get the President safely onboard." He looked at Sharon and told them,. "Lieutenant Valerii knows my instructions for once everyone's onboard."

Standing back, he let his gaze rake over them all. "Be careful. The _Galactica_ will be waiting, but only for a few more hours. You'll make it, though."

Helo's eyes narrowed. Adama was a good tactician, but his proposed diversion had been too quickly relayed not to have been planned in advance. He knew his boss: the Old Man might not explain his actions, but there was always a carefully laid plan behind them. He thought back to the long hours of over-training Adama had relentlessly put the flight crew through while they'd been away from New Caprica. No one had known it had been in order to pull a crazy stunt like having vipers and raptors trick DRADIS into believing they were battlestars. And certainly no one had imagined that other drills had been to prepare them for launching vipers while the _Galactica_ free fell through New Caprica's atmosphere. The Adama Manoeuvre had been brilliant - and well planned. This diversion of his had the same smell to it. There was something deeper behind what he was planning, but the Admiral wasn't letting anyone in on it. He glanced at Sharon. Except for her. For some reason, Adama had spoken to her, and probably given her last-minute instructions. Finally seeing the whole picture, he realised the reason for Sharon's disquiet the night before: whatever Adama had ordered was something she wasn't comfortable with. He groaned inwardly. That meant he wasn't going to like whatever it was, either. Focussing his attention back onto the Admiral with a frown, he decided that although there was nothing he could do about things he didn't know, he could address the things he did. Adama acting as a decoy wasn't a good idea.

Stepping forward, he began: "Sir-"

Adama stopped him before he could get started. In a voice that brooked no argument, he said, "You have your orders, lieutenant." His tone softening somewhat, he gruffly added, "You've done what you set out to do here, Lieutenant Agathon - you've watched my back, and I thank you. Now it's my turn to return the favour."

Helo stared at him a long moment, then nodded and reluctantly stepped down.

Not liking his father's plan any more than Helo did, Lee asked, "How long will it take you to get to the raptor?"

Adama's eyes flickered away from his son's. "It's an easy downhill run from where I'm going to lead them. I figure I'll be an hour behind you, tops. Just have the thing ready to leave when I get there. We aren't going to want to hang around." He hesitated, then added, "Don't wait longer than that, Lee. If I don't show, use the co-ordinates I've left for the FTL jump and get the hell out of here. And remember: Lieutenant Valerii has my orders. Follow them."

Lee stiffened and looked at him sharply. "We'll wait. We aren't leaving without you."

Adama's expression softened. Having planted the seed of his not returning, he said, "Cross that bridge when you come to it, son."

Tearing his eyes from Lee, he sent Sharon a look of steel. Her eyes dark with regret, she inclined her head imperceptibly.

Roslin, who had remained silent during the various exchanges, watched the shared look between Adama and Valerii. A frown creased her brow, then disappeared as sudden realisation made her eyes widen.

Saul Tigh hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said Bill was taking a suicide run at the planet, and the words that had fallen unbidden from her mouth beside the river just days ago had had their roots firmly in truth as well. Bill had come here planning to die. He still expected to. She'd told him she wouldn't leave the planet without him, and then convinced herself that her words had been borne from her mind working up worst-case scenarios...

Now she knew better.

Surprising everyone, she stepped forward. "Admiral, frak the thirty minutes. You don't need to do this. Let's just make a quick run for it."

He turned eyes the colour of a stormy sea towards her. "We'd never make it," he stated firmly. "It will take time to get the raptor ready to leave, and while we were inside getting the engines started, the cylons would be outside firing at us. We wouldn't stand a chance. We need to delay the cylons from reaching the raptor while it gets ready to take off. Diversion is the best way to do that. It'll be okay," he said smoothly. Holding her gaze more tightly, he continued, "You have to get off this planet, and you have to do it soon. The _Galactica _won't wait forever." He relaxed his stance somewhat. "As for me, don't worry. I've left exigency orders, but I have every intention of making it in time."

That last part was a lie, and she knew it. Could read it in his eyes, could see it in his stance. She opened her mouth to object-

"It's time to move," he said, abruptly terminating their conversation. "Helo, Sharon; you first," he ordered.

After nodding and checking out the area, they turned and left.

Watching the spot where the two had disappeared into the woods, Adama waited a few tense moments. With only the sound of pouring rain to accompany his thoughts, he finally nodded towards the other three. "I'm going to move away from here a little, then start heading towards the rise. Start for the raptor now. They-"

His words were interrupted by the distinctive sound of approaching cylon footfalls.

"Get going!" he ordered.

"Let me stay wi-" Lee began.

"Get the President to safety!" his father rasped. "I'll be fine."

Lee held his father's gaze. Impulsively, he held out his rifle and ammunition. "Take this, in case you need it."

His father nodded. Quickly placing the ammunition in his pockets, he slung the extra rifle around his neck and shoulder. Then he turned towards the direction from which the cylons were approaching.

"Bill."

Adama turned at the sound of Laura's voice. He didn't have time for an argument with her. Adrenalin rushing through his veins, he memorised the way she looked as Lee took her arm and began to pull her away. Loving her had been the most painful thing he'd ever experienced.

Or had been, until now...

"Go, Laura. Now."

Turning, he loped along the path, away from his son, Kara, and Laura.

He didn't look back.

-xxx-

The three moved smoothly through the woods, dodging low-lying branches and trying to make as little noise as possible. Walking with Kara in front of her and Lee behind her, Laura found herself filled with disquiet. The farther away she got from Adama, the greater her sense of distress grew.

Suddenly the sound of cylon turrent fire echoed through the trees. She flinched, and her steady pace faltered. She glanced backward. She could hear what she thought was Bill returning fire, and wondered where he would find cover and if there were any possibility at all that he'd survive.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her legs suddenly leaden, she realised she couldn't go on; couldn't let this happen. The gunfire behind them demanding her attention, she stumbled. Scrambling to her feet as Lee approached her, she gasped, "We shouldn't have left him."

"We had to," Lee told her as he held out his hand to help her along.

"We should go help him," she insisted. "I want to go back."

His warm hand clasped her arm just above the elbow as he guided her forward. "Not in this lifetime," he said in a determined tone. "He'd have my head, and yours, too. We've got to get to the raptor. We're running out of time. He'll meet us there."

Thinking rapidly, she let him drag her along. A yelp from Kara made them both look ahead through the bushes. They couldn't see her.

"She's fallen and hurt herself," Laura said quickly. Making as though to move forward, she released herself from his grasp and urged, "She might be hurt. Go check. I can't run as fast as you."

Lee hesitated, then dashed ahead.

Impelled by a sense of urgency she couldn't explain, Roslin immediately turned and ran hellbent for leather back the way she had come. Bill might be staying, but she'd be damned if he'd be staying alone. She was _not_ leaving him.

Lee found Kara on the ground, holding her foot and cursing. Telling her to sit still and be quiet, he examined her ankle and was relieved to see that it wasn't broken. Glancing back to tell the President, he stiffened and dropped Kara's foot to the ground.

Rising quickly, he ignored Kara's quick inhalation of pain and looked back through the wet undergrowth for a sign of movement. He turned to Kara.

"_Frak_!" he cursed. "I can't see the President!"

-xxx-

Running over the uneven terrain blindly, Laura followed the sound of cylon turrent fire. Reaching the point she thought had been where Adama had left them, she turned in the direction he had gone and continued to move as quickly as she could. In less time than she'd imagined, she saw where Bill had finally had to stop and dig in. She could see the flash of cylon gunfire and could also see that Bill was managing to hold what looked to be a single attacker off. Glad that Lee's assessment that they'd killed one had been correct, she paused, wiping away rain that dripped from her chin. Having no idea what she planned to do, she assessed the best angle of approach and then continued forward.

It took her a long five minutes to circle around and approach him from behind. Nearing his location cautiously, she crouched down and began to crawl the last few yards to him, cylon gunfire_ pinging_ off the tree branches above her head.

"Nice spot you've got here," she gasped when she finally gained shelter from the same outcropping of rocks he had taken refuge behind. Flinging her wet hair behind her shoulders, she leaned against the rock beside where he crouched and tried to catch her breath.

He paused momentarily, then continued to fire. "Where's Lee and Kara?" he asked in a harsh tone.

"They're okay," she reassured him quickly. "They're on their way to the raptor."

"You should have kept going," he told her abruptly.

"I told you: I'm not leaving this planet without you."

He couldn't afford to glare at her, so instead he pulled his trigger with greater vehemence. This was not going according to plan. It was all frakked...Just once, why couldn't she have-

"Do you know how to shoot one of these things?" he asked abruptly. If he couldn't save her, he could at least have her help save the others...

She shut her eyes. Suddenly irritated beyond belief, she snapped, "I'm a frakking school teacher. What do you think?"

Waiting for another volley of cylon gunfire to give him something to aim at in the slowly growing darkness, he said, "We haven't exactly sat down and caught up on your activities planetside. I figured you'd have learned. What kind of resistance leader can't fire a gun?" He paused to consider the ridiculousness of this conversation while he continued to look straight ahead, trying to catch a glimpse of the cylon through the trees. "We've got to hold this thing off for at least another five minutes, to give them time to safely get off the ground. Pass me the rifle Lee left. It's just over there," he said, nodding with his head. "I'll show you how it works."

She had begun to reach for the rifle but stopped as she realised what he'd said. She calculated rapidly in her head, then turned to him.

"Five minutes? You said to wait for an hour after we got to the raptor! That gives you at least another forty!"

"As soon as they arrive at the raptor, Sharon will tell them my orders. They'll leave as soon as the engines are ready for takeoff."

"Without _me_?"

Resisting the urge to smile at her reaction, Bill shot off a couple rounds into the forest. "If you're not with them, yes, without you. Sharon will know I won't hold her accountable for _your_ stupidity," he said as he continued to fire into the gloom. Pausing to reload, he glanced at her and added, "We need pilots maybe more than we need presidents."

Laura took this to be humour in the face of unspeakable odds and chose not to take it personally.

"Lee and Kara won't let her leave without us," she said in an assured tone.

"Sharon has her orders. They're taking off in five minutes. She'll do it," he said in a sure tone."Now get that rifle! We've got to hold out a little while longer. The only thing saving our frakking asses is that their reinforcements haven't shown up yet." He glanced to his right. "I want to move on further, towards the next outcropping of rock. They'll think we're heading up the side of the escarpment, and it'll give us better protection."

Manoeuvring further to his left, he ducked from a salvo of cylon bullets, then rose onto his knees to return fire.

She watched, having no idea what good he thought she'd do him shooting bullets blindly into the forest. Sighing, she got the rifle and held it towards him. "I really don't know how to fire it. And I was a damned good resistance leader, thank you very much."

Bill nodded, conceding this one small battle. "It's obvious you were. And I know you wouldn't necessarily have had learn how to use a rocket launcher rifle. If you even had one. You're going to learn now, though. We'll have to cover each other while we make a run for those rocks." Taking the rifle from her, he set his own gun down. Wincing as bullets ricocheted off the rocks near his head, he said, "Let's see if it's loaded, first."

Confident in the safety of the rock's protection, he turned and cocked open the chamber.

As he did so, Roslin saw the unmistakable red eye of a second cylon step into sight on their left. As it raised its arm towards them, she rose.

"Bill!" she screamed, before throwing herself in front of him.

The cylon fired.

The shots caught her in the back and flung her against him like a limp rag doll.

Bill felt the unmistakable sensation of hot metal piercing his flesh. Thrown back from the impact of both Roslin and the bullets hitting him, he instinctively held her against him and fell to the ground with her on top of him.

His breath rushed out of him and sound receded. He could have sworn he heard more gunfire, but it sounded far away. The sharp pain ricocheting around his insides ebbed away and he felt nothing.

_What had happened before would happen again..._

Time slowed. Rain cooled his skin and ran down the scarred planes of his face. Distantly, he was aware of Laura's voice saying something against his neck. There was a strange buzzing in his ear, though, and he couldn't hear what she said. He could feel her wet hair against his throat, though, and fuzzily thought that she shouldn't have been here. Senseless, he decided, to have both their bloods stain the ground. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but found he couldn't draw a breath...

Unconsciously, he groped for a moment until his hand touched hers where it lay draped on the ground beside him. Her fingers closed around his convulsively. A few heartbeats later, he felt them slowly relax and her body gradually go limp. As he felt growing shades of grey begin to wrap themselves more tightly around him, he felt Roslin exhale softly.

Unconsciously, he waited for a corresponding inhalation that didn't come.

His eyes closed. He could feel a pooling warmth against him; knew her blood was mingling with his as it made its way to the ground.

_The cost of revisiting Kobol... It was too high. _

He'd known that. Had offered his own price...

And the gods had said no and exacted too high a cost once again...

_Laura.._..he thought, his heart filled with grief.

Fighting against the desire to give in and let go, he focussed on one thing:

The children were safe...

It was his last thought before, on the wings of his own slow exhalation, darkness overcame him.

End  
Chapter 11


	12. Recompense

Thanks as always for the responses to this story - they make me smile, and smilin's a good thing. This chapter was kind of a strange one to write, but hopefully everyone comes across in character.

Disclaimer: BSG still ain't mine, darn it, but at least they let me play with it.

Thanks for reading!

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 12**

**Recompense **

Lee couldn't see the President.

"_Frak_!" he exclaimed. He knew exactly what the crazy woman had done and in that moment hated her for it. Suddenly understanding some of his father's frustrations concerning her, he turned and said, "I can't see the President! She's frakking gone back after my father. I've got to go get her." Using his fingers to rake back the wet hair that lay slick against his forehead, he cursed a few more times as he tried to think.

Kara had no trouble figuring out what had made the President turn back. She also knew Roslin wouldn't have stopped to consider the danger she was putting everyone else in by doing so. Reaching up, Kara gripped the wet sleeve of Lee's jacket as he began to head back in search of Roslin.

Lee hesitated, then helped her heist herself up to her feet.

Not letting go of his arm, she told him, "I'm coming too."

He stepped back, releasing himself from her grip. Seeing their window of opportunity for meeting with the _Galactica_ slowly closing, he told her, "No. You keep going. It's not that much farther." He began backing away in the direction he knew Roslin had taken. "Let Sharon and Helo know what's happened and that we're coming." He turned his head to look towards the escarpment. "I'll bring her back if I have to drag her by the hair," he said.

Kara's eyes widened at the anger in his voice. "Lee," she told him, "I don't think that will be necessary. And Sharon and Helo will figure out something's happened when we don't show up. They'll wait as long as they can. I'll be more help finding Roslin. It's going to be dark soon."

There was no time to argue, and no point in trying to pull rank. He felt something inside him sink. _They were all so frakked..._

"Fine," he said hurriedly, "but give me your handgun." No way was he going back without a weapon.

Kara quickly took it out of its holster and offered it to him.

Grabbing it out of her hand, Lee turned. "Watch my back," he said as he broke into a run.

Ignoring the pain shooting through her ankle, Kara adjusted her rifle over her shoulder and hurried after him.

The sound of occasional gunfire gave them directional guidance. Subconsciously taking comfort in the fact that they could distinguish the sound of Colonial weaponry being used, they moved quickly. Adama was definitely still alive. The question, of course, was where and in what state they would find the President.

Turning a corner and beginning to jog up a slight incline, Kara looked ahead and saw the red eye glow of a cylon in the distance.

"Lee!" she hissed. "Stop!"

He came to a sliding halt on the muddy ground and turned. Panting heavily, he asked hoarsely, "What?"

"One o'clock!"

Lee turned and looked through the trees. A good number of metres ahead, he could partially make out the form of a single Centurion walking across the path they were presently on. Instinctively, he raised his weapon, then thought better of it and began to move forward carefully, in order to get within a range where he knew he could hit and destroy it.

He had gone forward only a few steps when he heard the President's voice scream his father's name. The desperation in her tone made him pause uncertainly.

The cylon opened fire.

Reacting quickly, Lee raised his weapon again and began firing as he surged forward. As he'd hoped, it drew the cylon's attention. Stopping abruptly, it quickly turned to face him.

Kara saw the cylon's turrent arm extend their way. Yelling a warning, she jumped to her right.

Lee dove to his left, hitting the muddy ground with a thud. Quickly rolling behind a tree, he rose to his knees, swung his arm up, and fired off two quick rounds.

The cylon's head exploded with a satisfying spray of metal parts and its body fell to the ground.

Lee lowered his weapon, enjoying the sense of triumph he felt. Frakkin' cylons were getting easier and easier to kill.

With an exclamation of approval, Kara lowered her unfired rifle and rolled onto her knees to get up. Her teeth gleamed as she smiled at Lee's marksmanship. She'd tease him later about the gods finally giving him the ability to shoot straight.

Quickly getting to their feet, they raised their weapons and moved forward carefully, their eyes raking the surrounding area for other cylons.

As they neared the area the cylon had fired upon, they paused and lowered their guns. Listening carefully, they could hear nothing but the sound of rain splattering against shivering leaves and wet ground With middle dusk creating deeper shadows, it was increasingly difficult to see, so by silent, mutual accord they separated and began to desperately search the area. The fact that neither Adama nor Roslin had presented themselves after the cylon had been downed filled them with a fearful sense of urgency that made their hearts pound fiercely in their chests.

Lee heard a cry of dismay from Kara and turned to see her motioning to him.

"Here, Lee!" she called out before dropping to her knees

Something in the sound of her voice struck icy shards of dread into his gut. He rushed towards her-

And felt himself flung back. Distantly, he wondered what had hit him. A muted scream he recognised as Kara's filled the evening air and more shots rang out.

Falling to the ground seemed to take a long time. He winced as his head hit something hard. Suddenly weary, he closed his eyes.

-xxx-

"Lee! Frak it! Wake up!"

Lee screwed his eyes open and looked up at Kara.

"What?" he asked groggily.

_He felt like hell. How long had be been asleep? _He winced at the pain in his head._ What the frak had he been drinking? And why was Kara yelling at him?_

He looked up at her and drops of water fell into his eyes, making him blink.

_Where the hell was he? Why was he soaking wet?  
_

"What happened?" he rasped, his throat feeling dry in spite of the water trickling down his face.

"You've been shot. You fell and hit your head. Get up! You've got to help me! I found your father and the President!" She shook him roughly. "Get up, dammit!"

"Shot?" he asked. Conscious thought slowly reappearing, he realised he was in pain. Excruciating pain. It pierced through the fog shrouding his mind and he finally remembered where he was. Rolling over, he carefully got up on his knees, and then, with Kara's help, rose.

He swayed on his feet.

"What shot me?" he asked, fighting for his balance and grimacing in pain.

Taking quick inventory, he realised he'd been shot in the right arm. He winced as his left hand moved to support it. _The right arm and shoulder_, he amended. He shrugged, continuing to check himself out. _Decent movement, so nothing shattered. _He looked down at himself. It was hard to tell how much blood he'd lost, but he didn't think anything vital had been hit.

A wave of dizziness and nausea rushed over him, and he held his breath, willing himself not to black out or throw up..

"There was another cylon. I got him," Kara explained quickly as she braced herself slightly against the weight he suddenly placed on her.. "There doesn't seem to be any more around." When Lee stood on his own again, she took hold of his undamaged arm and began to drag him towards where she'd found his father sprawled on the ground, the President's body draped over him. "I know you're hurt, but this is worse," she explained as she pulled him forward.

Reaching the two bodies, she dropped to her knees beside Adama's head. "I think they're both alive, but they don't look too good, and I can't get either one of them to wake up. I'm scared to move them, Lee, in case I make something worse." She looked up at him helplessly. "We've got to get help-" She stopped abruptly, unable to figure out a way of getting two wounded, unconscious people - plus a dazed and shot up Lee - to the raptor.

Lee understood her unspoken dilemma. There was no way they'd be able to get his father and Roslin to the raptor in time.

Holding his wounded arm tightly against his body, he looked around. "Gods," he asked, "How the frak are we going to do this?"

--

"Funny you should ask," said a familiar voice from behind him. "Guess we got here just in time."

Lee spun around. Later, he would be unsure whether it was the surprise of finding Colonel Tigh and Major Cottle striding towards them or the concussion he had received that made the world spin at a dangerous tilt for a moment.

Cottle quickly walked past him and knelt beside the two bodies lying at Lee's feet. "Gods, what have you people been doing down here?" he asked. Pressing his fingers to Adama's neck, he felt for a pulse. Frowning, he shook his head and then angled his hand so that he could do the same for the President.

Looking up at Lee and Tigh, who had moved closer to watch, he said crankily, "Step back, will you? People are coming to help. We need space."

He turned his head and glared at Kara. "You, too," he ordered.

Turning back to Lee, his eyes registered the holes in the young man's shirt. "Those bullet holes?" he asked.

Lee nodded.

"Hold still while someone looks at you," he ordered. He shot a glance at the medic who had followed him and Tigh out of the woods. "The Commander here has got himself shot. Give him something for the pain, then fix him up enough for the ride home."

"He fell and hit his head on a rock, too. He was unconscious for a while," Kara said.

Cottle had turned his attention back to the two lying on the ground. "Take a look at his head, then, too," Cottle said tersely without looking up.

Reminded of her presence and the fact that she hadn't backed off when he'd ordered her to, the doctor cocked his head to glare at Kara. She maintained her position beside Adama and glared back, silently daring him to even try making her move.

"How is he?" she demanded.

"How does he look?" he snapped. His hands reached out towards Roslin. Moving her hair aside, he lifted one of her eyelids and shone a light into her eye, then moved to repeat the process with Adama. "They're both alive and reactive," he said in a more reasonable tone. Before she could say more, he turned his head and yelled into the rainy darkness, "Where the_ frak_ are the stretchers?" Turning back to Kara, he continued, "Barely, though. I don't like the looks of either of them. There'll be internal damage, for sure, and Adama's messed up his insides once already." He paused to look at the two lying in front of him, then made a decision. His eyes moving from Tigh to Kara, he ordered, "Help me move her off him."

Gunfire sounded in the distance, and everyone started.

"Don't worry,: Cottle reassured them, "that's the marines taking care of any cylons in the area." Shooting a glance at Saul Tigh, he said, "The Colonel here brought the whole stinkin' calvary with us."

Everyone relaxed and turned their focus back towards the two bodies on the ground.

Following his orders carefully, Kara and Tigh helped the doctor roll the President off Adama and rest her on the ground next to him. Kara then quickly took up her former position beside the Admiral, her hand resting on his shoulder.

Lee stood watching the activity with trepidation. The shot provided by the medic had relieved his pain, and it had been good to discover that the cylon shells had gone through him cleanly and with little internal damage. Neither the shot nor the news, however, had alleviated his anxiety. Not taking his eyes off Cottle and what he was doing, Lee ignored whatever torture the medic was performing on him.

When Tigh had finished helping with the President and had moved back to stand beside him, Lee said, "Not that I'm not grateful to see you, but I thought the order was that no one come down after anyone."

Tigh shook his head ruefully. With his attention also glued at the proceedings surrounding the President and the Admiral, he said, "Yeah, in a manner of speaking, I guess that's true, but unfortunately, we had a kind of insurgence happen once people learned what was going on. When it looked as though no one was going to show up at the rendevous point, too many people made it clear there was no way in hell the fleet was going anywhere without at least looking for him first. Not without risking a mutiny, anyways." He looked at Lee and then turned his gaze towards Adama. After a moment's silence, he continued gruffly, "Following his orders would have exacted too high a cost, Lee. Everyone knew it, most of all, me. We need him. He holds things together. Sometimes I think he's the only sane one amongst the lot of us."

His words hung heavily in the wet air for a moment, then he shifted his feet and inhaled deeply. "Anyway, I had a bunch of resignations attached to requests to come here to find him, the President, and the rest of you." He shrugged. "I was kinda caught, wasn't I? I mean, that was how I rationalised Agathon and Valerii going with the President, right? So I figured what the hell, why not make the frak up of a mutiny complete? I joined the party, set up a team, and here we are."

Lee winced as the medic probed a particularly tender spot. "I think you just didn't like the career change."

Tigh grunted. "Damned right. The benefits are shit. The quickest way of getting out of it was to get him back. He can have the pleasure of yelling at me about it later." He grinned mirthlessly. "Looks like it'll be a while before I have to worry about him kicking my ass for it."

A sound to their left made both men straighten quickly, then relax as people with stretchers finally appeared.

"It's about frakking time!" the doctor berated them. "I told you to keep up! You can sightsee on your own time!" he told the tired men who arrived carrying bags of medical gear plus the unwieldy stretchers. Giving orders about being careful and not frakking things up, Cottle oversaw the President being carefully lifted and placed onto one of the stretchers.

Cottle frowned when he looked down at her. She had looked no better on her back than she had draped face down over Adama, and she appeared to be weakening fast. He yelled orders at the medics, ending with, "Get her to the raptor and get her hooked up to some blood, fast!"

Unconsciously stroking Adama's hair, Kara fought back tears as she despaired at the amount of blood that soaked the Admiral's shirt.

Cottle looked down at her. Reading her thoughts, he softened slightly and gruffly reassured her, "It's not all his, Thrace. By the looks of it, the shots went through her and into him. A lot of that blood is hers. Her weight pressing on him probably saved him from bleeding out."

His moment of gentleness abruptly over, he gestured with his hands and said, "Now get out of the way. We need to get him moved. You can hold his hand once we're back aboard _Galactica_." Turning to the waiting medics, he ordered, "Get him moved. And be careful with him. He's lost a lot of blood and his pulse is irregular. Watch his breathing. too; his lungs may be filling up with blood." As the medics quickly moved to follow his orders, he looked around. "Shit of a place to get shot up," he grumbled. Turning his collar up against the persistent rain, he bent his head to shelter the flame he put to the end of a damp cigarette. Inhaling deeply, he coughed roughly, then turned to frown at Lee and Tigh.

"It's time to get this show on the road. I'd appreciate it if you people in the audience would kindly get a move on. We've gotta get them back to the _Galactica_ ASAP."

He looked at Lee with piercing, dark eyes. "You need help?"

Lee shook his head. The pain killer was working fine. "I'll walk," he said.

"Suit yourself," Cottle said in a disgruntled tone. Turning, he began to rapidly follow the medics to the raptor.

Falling into step beside Tigh, Lee held the bandaged arm that now lay snugly ensconced in a sling and asked, "Where did you land?"

"Pretty close to where the Admiral left his raptor. We met up with Valerii and Agathon as they came out of the forest. They were running like the dogs of Charon himself were chasing them." He grinned grimly. "You should have seen the look on their faces when they saw us! Even Bill's cylon looked surprised," he snorted. "We told them to get the stealth raptor ready. They'll fly it back. Bill and the President will come in ours."

"Where are all the cylons?" Kara asked as she fell into step behind them.

"We threw them a bone to chase," Tigh said cryptically. "They've left, for the moment."

"No kidding," she said in a dazed voice.

Cottle's voice drifted through the wet foliage at them.

"Shut up and get moving! We're not waiting for you!"

Kara cast a parting glance at the spot where Adama and the President had lain.

Kobol had had its taste of blood...She closed her eyes, praying to whatever gods were listening that this time it be only blood and not lives that the gods demanded.

End  
Chapter 12


	13. Interlude

This is a chapter about nothing much at all , but it does kinda set things up a bit for what's to come - at least that's what I'm telling myself so that I don't feel guilty about wasting your time! Thanks as always to those who read and take the time to drop a line - it's appreciated!

Disclaimer: If they were mine, they'd be just as messed up as they already are, just in a different way. My thanks to TPTB for letting me write my version guilt-free.

Note: Thanks to SuperLizard, who raised the good point about how I end my chapters - the "End" indicates the end of the chapter, not the end of the story. I'm sorry for any confusion. (Though gray hair looks rather distinguished...)

**Too High a Cost  
By: Mariel **

**-xxxxxxxxxx- **

**Chapter 13**

**Interlude**

_Galactica_ loomed silently in space, its port side pod doors open in welcome. In the darkness, five raptors raced towards it. Moments later, secure in the confines of _Galactica's_ insides, those just returned from Kobol barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before the unmistakable sensation of a jump washed over them. When the jump was complete and they had regained their sense of place and time, Kara and Lee looked at one another over the prone bodies of Adama and Roslin.

They were home.

Metres away, in the stealth raptor they had piloted back, Helo and Sharon looked at one another and thought the same thought.

Then worry about the two who had arrived without knowing settled over everyone.

-xxx-

One week and three jumps later, the fleet rested, its focus primarily directed upon the Life Station of the _Galactica _and the two patients who had taken up residence there.

At this particular moment in time, however, the person in charge of the Life Station on the _Galactica _wished them anywhere else. "One is bad enough. The two of them at once is just plain impossible," Cottle grumbled under his breath. Flinging his clipboard onto his desk, he reached for his fourteenth cigarette of the day.

_Maybe this one I'll get to finish_, he thought as he lit it with an angry flick of his lighter.

Trying to shut his ears to the busy sounds of his full-to-overflowing Life Station, he collapsed on his chair and put his head back. Exhaling a steady blue stream of smoke into the air, he wearily closed his eyes and fleetingly wondered when he'd last slept.

Feeling every minute of his age, he took another comforting drag on his cigarette...

Life had been totally frakked up ever since they'd returned from Kobol. The press were constantly pestering him for information or trying to sneak around for 'exclusive photos' of his two guests of honour, and the flow of visitors - both those with valid reasons for being there and those without - had been ceaseless, irritating and inconvenient. Add to that the fact that Adama was healing better than he ought to have been but was still stubbornly in a coma and the President was apparently well on the road to recovery but shouldn't have been, and life got suddenly more complicated - especially since he had a theory as to why their recoveries were so unusual. The blood results he needed to confirm his hypothesis, however, had yet to come back - and would take gods-knew-how-long because the lab had more important things to worry about at the moment.

And those things were only the tip of his frakking huge iceberg of woes...

It was enough, he thought tiredly, to make a man misplace his sunny disposition...

His thoughts were interrupted by one of his most recently trained medics. Sticking her dark-haired head around the opening of his office door, Dana Meyes began, "Sir-"

Keeping his head firmly planted against the back of his chair, Cottle didn't bother opening his eyes. Uttering a curse, he said, "If it's those damned press people again, tell them if they don't stop hounding me about Roslin and Adama, I'm going to kill the two of them just to put myself out of the misery of being their doctor! More than four thousand people sick from this frakking bacterial outbreak, and all anyone wants to know about is what Roslin had for breakfast and if we provided special hospital gowns for them! You tell those leeches-"

The slender woman hurried to interrupt his tirade. "It's not the press, sir. They all headed down to the mess when they heard Picon chili is on the menu tonight. It'll be an hour or more before they're back. I'm here because we've got two patients coming in from the _Astral Queen_, and the _Romany_ is requesting that we send someone to take a look at a couple of their engineers."

Cottle grunted and silently thanked the mess for the unexpected few moments of reprieve.

Finally lifting his head, he looked at the woman in his doorway. Meyes was no spring chicken, and had likely heard it all more than once, but he liked her and showed it by valiantly resisting the urge to colourfully describe what the _Romany_ could do with its engineers. Instead, he growled, "I told them no more house calls! If they have people who need attention their own medical staff can't handle, they need to transport their asses over here themselves. We're busy enough without having to waste time travelling here, there, and everywhere. I can't spare the people or the time."

Dana Meyes nodded. Her face showing her weariness, she asked, "And the two coming from the _Queen_? Where should I put them? They're going to need beds, sir."

Cottle briefly closed his eyes. Leave it to the two leaders of the frakking remains of humanity to be on death's door at the same time the rest of the fleet decided to develop a new strain of bacteria that appeared bent on killing a quarter of the people it attacked. There seemed no logic to who got it and who remained immune, and no accounting for who died from it and who slowly recovered. All he knew was that it resisted every anti-bacterial weapon he had in his pharmaceutical arsenal. The lab reported that they had a couple good leads on developing something to combat it, but it was taking time - and time was one of the many things he didn't have a lot of.

Manpower, space, and empty beds were others.

"We're running out of room, Meyes."

Lack of space had become a problem very quickly. So much so, that two days earlier an order had gone out to the fleet to take care of their sick as best they could, leaving _Galactica_ to deal with only the most severe cases. The numbers arriving had decreased since that, but finding a place to put those still arriving remained a problem.

Meyes looked at the doctor with a mixture of understanding and impatience. "I understand that, sir, but..."

"Are there any free beds in the day treatment area?"

She shook her head no.

"We moved a bunch of cots and sleeping mattresses into the starboard corridor. Any empty ones?"

Again, she shook her head.

Cottle frowned. It was good news, since it meant no one had died in the past twenty-four hours. It carried with it, however a problem: no newly empty beds for incoming patients.

Already knowing the answer, he asked: "Any rooms we can double up on?"

Meyes hesitated. "Just the President's and the Admiral's, sir.."

He shook his head. "It's hard enough to keep them protected from the bacteria as it is," he groused. "We can hardly have them sharing space with people dying from it, can we?"

He waited for her to respond, knowing what the next logical move was, but damned if he was going to be the one to suggest it.

Meyes, bless her well-meaning, practical soul, helpfully did it for him.

"No," she agreed, "but if they could share an isolation compartment with each other, it would free up space for another few beds."

Pleased, Cottle nodded. Not his idea, not his responsibility.

"Well, you're in charge of admitting and if you need the space, go ahead and do it, if you have to," he said in a grudging tone. Knowing exactly what he wanted done, he suggested, "It'll probably be better to move Roslin in with the Admiral. He's got the smaller of the two units, and it's tucked farther away. It's also quieter there, and it's harder for the press to get at - and we can screen it off if we want to." He grunted. "Adama in a coma shouldn't be too onerous a roommate for our President." Taking a drag on his cigarette, he exhaled noisily and rasped, "Hell, it'll be a match made in heaven: he'll just lie there while she does all the talking." His lips curved. "Someone had better remind her not to take his silence for agreement."

Meyes' mouth quirked. Sharing an amused glance with him, she nodded and said, "I'll take care of the move right away, sir."

Cottle watched her leave, then rested his head back against his chair. He was quite sure Roslin would greet the new arrangement with a certain amount of restrained relief, but he knew damned well that Adama would throw a cold, controlled fit if he woke up and found the President anywhere near him. He'd heard the rumours, knew a lot of them were true, and had seen the man Bill had become. It all added up to Roslin being the last person Adama would want to be confined with.

He sighed and lifted his cigarette to his mouth. Might force him to deal with some things, though. Shrugging, he inhaled deeply. He'd worry about it once Adama woke up.

Smoke bit at the back of his throat and he grimaced..

_If_ Adama woke up...

-xxx-

Slipping through the curtain leading into Roslin's isolation cubicle, Dana Meyes took a deep breath and then smiled.

"Good afternoon, Madame President!"

Laura Roslin looked up from one of the reports Tory had left that morning and smiled back wearily. There were shadows under her eyes and her cheeks were hollow. Had she been standing, it would have been obvious that she held herself stiffly, her muscles and ribs still sore from the damage done by the bullets that had travelled through her. Lying in bed, however, and propped up on pillows and feeling relaxed, she looked pale and thinner, but otherwise reassuringly okay for someone who had been looking across the river at Charon only days ago.

Removing her glasses, Roslin said, "Good afternoon, Dana! I'm surprised to see you this time of day."

The medic shrugged. "We're busy, so Doctor Cottle asked me to stay on, ma'am. We've got more patients coming in, and it's taking a bit of juggling to find space for them." She hesitated a moment. Placing her hands behind her back, she discreetly moved her fingers in an ancient gesture for luck as she continued, "I've been ordered to move you in with the Admiral so that we have this unit available for the newcomers."

Roslin frowned.

Mistaking the frown for displeasure, Dana rushed to apologise. "I'm truly sorry, Madam, but there are so many people being shipped here we don't know where to put them. Your sharing the Admiral's isolation unit would really help us out. We only suggest it because you're the only two here who need to be quarantined from the bacteria."

Realising the impression the other woman had gotten, Laura waved a hand at her. "I don't mind, Dana. I'm just concerned that you haven't asked sooner. I know this bacteria problem has reached epidemic proportions. I don't like to think other people have suffered because I've had a room to myself."

Dana smiled in relief. "Oh, no. We've coped up until now. And thank you, Madame President." Beginning to back away towards the exit, she said, "I'll get everything set up in the Admiral's room, then come back for you shortly."

Trying to sound casual, Laura stopped her from leaving by asking, "How is the Admiral doing?"

Meyes paused. The question was far from unexpected. She got it every time she entered the President's room. In fact, the President had begun asking about Admiral Adama shortly after she'd regained consciousness following her surgery. She'd even demanded to be taken to see him immediately. Cottle had said no, she was to stay where she was. As she had grown stronger, her requests had grown more persistent. Cottle had remained adamant. The Admiral, he had said, didn't need more visitors than he had already - Lee and Kara had taken up permanent residence at his side, he complained, and Helo and Sharon weren't much better. It was hard enough making sure they were sanitized properly before entering the Admiral's room without adding someone who would have to be brought into the room in a wheelchair. Add Tigh and a few dozen others to the list of people who were constantly showing up to stand and look through the sheer walls of the Admiral's isolation unit, and you had far more people standing about than were needed. Looking at her, he'd frowned, and added that she was in no condition to be up and about yet, anyway. His parting shot had been said as he'd left her room, and had had to do with people having better things to do than to escort her on social calls...

Roslin had frowned and bided her time. As discreetly as she could, she'd questioned her visitors about him, and pestered staff for information every chance she got. Frustrated and unsatisfied with what she was being told, she'd finally asked to see Cottle privately. Soon thereafter, Cottle had let it be known that if the President of the Twelve Colonies asked after the Admiral of the Fleet's health, she was to be given direct answers from Life Station staff. "But make sure you couch it in reassuring terms," he cautioned everyone. Making it sound very plausible, he told them, "She's worried about being out an Admiral if he doesn't soon take a turn for the better. She's got enough on her plate without worrying about that, so keep it as positive as you can."

Having been the President's primary care giver since her arrival, Dana had seen first hand Roslin's deepening dismay each time she'd been told there had been no change, and developed her own reason for the President's worry.

In her estimation, it had nothing to do with losing the Admiral of the Fleet and all about losing the man himself.

It was only an opinion, however, and she kept to herself.

Regretting the disappointment she'd knew it would cause the President, she reluctantly said, "He's the same, ma'am, but I'm sure he'll wake up soon. His vitals are all good, and it looks as though the internal bleeding has stopped. The damaged artery is still playing up a bit, but Doctor Cottle seems confident that the sutures will hold and heal." She looked at Roslin, who was only a few years older than herself, and felt at a loss. Wanting to say something to comfort, she held the President's green eyes with dark, quietly confident brown ones. "Doctor Cottle says it's a miracle he's alive," she said gently. "The gods are watching over him, Madame President. He'll be all right. I know it."

Laura nodded, and glanced away. She had tried calling upon her faith, but her fear had become too overwhelming. No matter how well he was doing physically, Bill was still in a coma, and had been for a week. She didn't know much about comas, but she did know that the longer a person was in one, the smaller the chances were that they would come out of it.

"He needs to wake up soon," she said.

"That he does," Meyes agreed. Inhaling deeply, she added briskly, "And he will. He's just taking his time and getting his rest." She paused. "Just as you should be." Looking at her timepiece, she said in a softer tone, "I'll be back in about thirty minutes to roll you into your new room." She smiled slightly."You're finally getting the chance to see him! Perhaps you could take a short nap before I take you."

Laura smiled slightly. "Everyone wants me to sleep."

"Everyone wants you well as soon as possible, ma'am."

The President put down the file she'd been holding and relaxed her head against her pillow. She'd been awake for almost four hours - a long time for her these days. Feeling tired, she said, "In that case, turn down the lights when you leave and I'll see what I can do."

As the lights dimmed, she closed her eyes.

And thought of Bill.

Her hands restlessly clutched at the bed covers. He wasn't doing well. Cottle, of course, said he ought to have been dead, and claimed puzzlement over the fact that he wasn't. He also claimed that she herself had accomplished a miraculous recovery.

She sighed, and set aside thoughts of medical mysteries. Finally, she allowed a trill of anticipation to trickle through her at the one piece of good news she'd received since her return here. They were moving her to him. She was finally going to see him for herself. A single drop of moisture escaped from her eye and made its way down her cheek. It was going to be all right.

_He_ was going to be all right...

With that last, determined thought, she let herself relax into sleep.

-xxx-

She was woken minutes later by Cottle entering to check on her.

Opening her eyes slowly, she watched as he rounded the end of her bed and stood looking down at her. When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand and said gruffly, "Madame President, he'll wake up when he's good and ready to wake up. The man's in a coma, for frak sakes! I'm starting to think he's the lucky one - it's the only way a person around here can get any peace!"

"I was about to ask how _you_ were," Laura lied calmly.

"Bullshit," Cottle scoffed. "I never change. And neither," he said pointedly, "do you. Which is why I know what you were _really _going to ask. Hell, it's the only thing you've asked me since you came to after your operation."

He was right, but it rankled her that he was, so she reminded him in a prim tone, "I've been told I'll be moving into the same isolation unit as he, so I don't need to ask after him. I'll soon be able to see his condition for myself." Clearing her throat, she then used her best Presidential voice to continue, "My question, Doctor, was going to be exactly as I've indicated."

"Then I'll say that I'm just fine, thank you very much," he said, not believing her for a minute. He looked at her, saw that her ever-present worry had not abated and relented just for a moment. "He's doing all right, Madame President. I can't explain why. In my books, he ought to be dead, considering the amount of blood he lost and the mess he's made of his insides again. But then, _you_ should be dead, too. You're both frakking miracles," he said.

Laura raised an eyebrow at his blunt language, but expressed no surprise. Jack Cottle was a law unto himself, and she for one was content to allow him that. She was just grateful he was still standing.

"Are you looking after yourself?" she asked impulsively.

The question threw him.

"The lab should have some of your results back to me in the next day or two. I'm hoping so, anyway," he said. "We had no idea this bacteria would be so far-reaching and so bloody lethal."

"You need rest," Laura persisted.

He nodded and finally responded to her concern. "And I'll get some. Tomorrow, maybe."

Doubting it, Laura nodded. Relaxing slightly, she looked at him with probing eyes.

"So tell me how Bill is _really_ doing."

Cottle showed no reaction to her use of the Admiral's first name, but he noted it and placed the information carefully with the other observations he had made. "I told you: he should be dead, but he's not. And he is getting better - physically, anyway. I can't explain his coma or why he hasn't come out of it, though. This is just one of those situations no one can control - we just have to wait and see what happens."

A rustle of the curtain signalled Dana Meyes' return. Nodding towards the President, she turned to Cottle and said, "I've got the Admiral's room ready, sir."

"Good," Cottle said. "Might as well get her moved in now, then."

Laura lifted a hand to slow things down a bit. "Is there anyone with him?"

Dana shook her head. "No. I thought perhaps you'd want to get settled in without other people there. Lieutenant Thrace was with him, but she was very understanding and said she needed to get something to eat before her shift, anyway. She won't be back until tomorrow morning. The Admiral's son won't be here for another couple of hours."

Laura nodded, relieved. She knew that Kara and Lee had been taking turns sitting with Bill, and that Agathon and Valerii took turns as well, but she wanted no one there when she arrived to see him for the first time.

Smiling at the medic, Laura thanked her for her thoughtfulness. Bracing herself against her pillows, she inhaled deeply and said, "I think I'm ready, then."

End  
Chapter 13


	14. Remember

Sorry for the long time between updates. Long story, involving pain and bedrest. The extra sleep was kinda nice, though.

Many thanks to everyone who's been following and reviewing - your thoughts keep me on track. Thanks to the anon reviews - and apologies for not being able to write a proper thank you - but I do appreciate that you're out there reading and commenting..

Disclaimer: You've heard it before. Pretend you're hearing it again..

Okay, so here's the deal: Bill won't wake up. I keep trying, but he's a damned stubborn man...

**Too High a Cost  
By: Mariel**

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 14  
Remember  
**

_As she was rolled into the Admiral's room, Laura kept her eyes trained firmly on him. What she saw reassured her. She'd seen him like this more than once; threads of silver hair gleaming in lamplight, his body composed, his eyes closed, his features relaxed in sleep. Unbidden, his name escaped her lips. "Bill…" she breathed softly._

_He didn't respond, and the moment of foolish hope died. This was no restoring sleep holding him in gentle arms. This was a frightening unknown, keeping him silent and separate. Emotions welled up inside her, making her throat ache._

_Meyes stopped the President's bed alongside the Admiral's so that the two faced each other. She then rounded the end so she could push the headboard against the opposite wall. Glancing up, she saw the President's expression and hesitated. Making a quick decision, took a few steps and pushed Roslin's bed hard up against the side of the Admiral's. _

"_Madame President," she murmured, "I seem to have forgotten something. I'm going to run and get it; I'll leave you like this while I'm gone, if that's all right." Moving towards the doorway, she turned off the harsh ceiling light, leaving just the light above Adama's bed glowing softly. "When I come back," she said, "I'll move your bed into place and hook you back up to the monitors."_

_Laura answered quietly, saying that it was fine, and thank you. She did so without moving, carefully keeping her head still so that the tears welling against her eyelashes would not cascade over them and spill down her cheeks._

_She remained motionless until Meyes had left the room. Then she stretched out her arm and reached to tentatively touch Bill's hand. She trailed her fingers along the top of it, revisiting the play of tendons and veins beneath his skin. Tears now running unnoticed down her face, she curled her fingers around his._

"_I'm here," she whispered, hoping he would miraculously awake because of her presence. _

_When he did not, she fell silent._

-xxx-

Laura Roslin sat propped up in bed, her gaze fixed steadily on the man lying across from her. In the twenty-four hours since her arrival, she'd spent considerable time staring at him, willing him to open his eyes and look at her.

He hadn't.

Sighing worriedly, she looked down at the report in her hand. Tory would arrive soon for the papers she'd signed and to discuss some of the things that had come across her desk in the past day. The Quorum, now that it knew that she was healing and would soon be up and walking, was beginning to make rumbling noises about resuming their trek towards Earth. There were other considerations, too. The bacterial infection that had so suddenly sprung up throughout the fleet was not only overtaxing their medical system but also causing fear throughout the civilian population. Rumours were rife as to its origins and how it could be cured. Anyone who survived it had a reason for it they were all too willing to announce; anyone who appeared immune had an explanation to share, as well...misinformation that caused unrest and suspicion raced from ship to ship, with people swaying from one sure cure to the next certain prevention. On top of that, transportation between the fleet had become an issue. Civilian ships were not always observing quarantine protocol; and some pilots were refusing to take necessary medical supplies to severely infected ships. Military help was going to be needed in overseeing-

Her thoughts were interrupted by Lee's arrival.

Setting aside her work, she smiled up at him. "Lunch didn't take you long."

He shook his head. "Wasn't worth the trip down. I should have taken you up on your offer to share yours!"

"Mine was pretty bad. You can have a look, if you like," she offered, nodding at the covered tray on her side table. "I didn't touch anything."

Lee moved to lift the cover. After a brief examination of the tray's contents, he grimaced and set the cover back down with a slight clatter. "Thanks, but I'll pass," he said. "Perhaps we both should have ordered out."

They smiled at one another, remembering days long gone when such a thing were possible.

He looked over at his father and his smile faded.

Her smile also sliding away, Roslin told him, "He's the same."

"Yeah," he said.

"He'll be all right," she said, trying to reassure herself as much as him. "You know that, don't you?"

He nodded, not really knowing that at all. The last time he'd seen his father like this, he had known there was a will to live, a desire to fight death. This time, he wasn't so sure. Though he had shared his thoughts with no one, in the past few days he had come to realise that there had been something final about his father's decisions on Kobol. His father, he decided, had had no intention of leaving the planet alive. Worse, something in his manner had clearly indicated he had planned to die, had looked forward to not making it with a sort of macabre anticipation.

Without thinking, he said aloud, "He doesn't want to live."

The words struck Roslin hard. She'd thought the same thought and had prayed it untrue. To hear someone voice it leant a possible reality to it that frightened her.

"He's got to, whether he wants to or not," she said firmly. "Besides, Doctor Cottle says he's healing unexpectedly well."

Lee shrugged. "Physically, perhaps, but the coma is saying something else; maybe he just doesn't want to wake up. Maybe he's just not interested in living anymore."

Horrified by his words, she insisted, "He's got to."

"We don't have a say in that."

He was right. A panic she couldn't tamp down crept into her and her heart began to thud in her chest. Moving restlessly, she suddenly needed the freedom to relax her features into whatever expression they desired. Wishing Lee gone, she forced herself to maintain a calm demeanour. Bill couldn't die, and he couldn't remain in this coma. He couldn't-

If he did either, all hope would die. She knew that as surely as she knew that she was the rightful president of the Twelve Colonies. She might be the people's leader, but he was their navigator, the solid, stolid beacon everyone set their gaze upon. Bobbing and weaving as she needed to, she led the fickle, feckless masses; he guided the fleet on a steady course with a sure hand.

She closed her eyes. In the first, horrible days of running from the cylons, it had been Bill who had stood before them and supplied hope for the entire fleet, Bill who had made a promise to the remains of humanity and given them something to live for. He had nurtured that hope in them all, built the flame of it inside of everyone, military and civilian alike… and then allowed her to take his lie about Earth and turn it into truth as a part of her prophecies.

But it had still been Bill's hope, and it had had its roots in his steady hands.

With almost painful clarity she saw the role the gods had intended for them. Saw how they - _she_ – had failed...for now the hope in Bill was dead and lay cold and forgotten beside his lost trust.

Into the thought-ridden silence that had fallen between them, Lee rose with a gusty sigh. To her intense relief, he told her, "I have to go - I'm taking an extra rotation." Setting aside his own dark thoughts, he attempted a smile. "I'm glad you're doing so well. Cottle says you were up walking this morning."

Forcing herself to turn her focus onto Lee, she nodded. "I was. He's a hard taskmaster."

"He'll have you out of here before you know it!" Lee declared reassuringly.

Something he couldn't interpret flashed across the President's features. "Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

Laura nodded and forced a smile. "Just tired, I think."

"Then I'll get out of here," Lee said. "Anything I can bring back with me when I come tomorrow?"

She shook her head and her eyes drifted towards Adama.

Knowing he was already forgotten, Lee quietly left.

Laura sat motionless for a long moment after he was gone. For reasons she was not likely to explain to Doctor Cottle, she wasn't prepared to leave Life Station; at least not yet.

-xxx-

_Thought is a strange thing. It is stranger still when done in isolation, stripped of body and feeling and outside stimuli..._

_For days now, Bill's thoughts had cast through the past, sifting, analysing, delving into events and emotions he had avoided for perhaps too long._

_Cool and unsentimental, his mind had undertaken its solitary pursuit with single-minded fervour, examining, judging, and refusing to set aside memories he'd desperately sought to ignore or forget. Taking full advantage of this opportunity, his mind replayed for him each hurt, each joy, each failure, each triumph…and each betrayal._

-xxx-

After Lee's departure, Laura continued to watch Bill. She'd had a lot of time to think about him and her relationship with him and what had gone wrong and where they were now. One thing had become clear to her: the paradigm of their relationship had changed.

Nothing between them would be the same again.

It frightened her, but not so much as the thought of life without him.

She sighed, and moved restlessly. She'd believed being here with him would make her feel better and miss him less, but, if anything, it had filled her with more longing. She wanted to crawl into the bed and lie next to him. With the warmth of his shoulder against her face, she wanted to wrap her arm around his middle and slide her leg so that she felt his thigh beneath hers.

She wanted to feel his breath softly caress her skin.

And, because when she allowed herself to want, she wanted it all, she wanted him to say her name, to open his eyes and look at her. Touch her. Be the Bill she had known. The Bill she had loved without knowing that she loved.

-xxx-

_Candlelight caressing silken hair..._

_Caroline's arms had held him tightly and he'd spoken without thinking... The wrong question asked; the wrong answer given…but not to be regretted because it had resulted in Lee and Zak._

_Warm, confident eyes filled with knowing... _

_The right question asked for the wrong reasons; the right answer given, for the wrong reasons... but not to be regretted because Anne had given what he'd needed to receive, had taken what he'd needed to give. And they had loved...  
_

_Candlelight caressing silken hair. Warm, confident eyes filled with knowing... _

_No question asked; no answer given. Who could say what the question should have been, or how Laura would have answered?_

_It had all gone horribly wrong…_

_You can't hide from the things you have done. You can't hide from what others have done, either..._

-xxx-

It had been fifty-seven hours since she'd been placed here with Bill. Exhaling softly into the darkness of ship's night, she moved restlessly. Lee and Kara had left a few hours ago, the twenty-four-hour-a-day vigil by the Admiral's bedside now ended out of deference to her presence.

"_Give the woman some privacy, why don't you?_" Cottle had chided them. _"The President needs her rest, and she's not going to get it with people parading in and out of her room at all hours. You wanted Adama to have company, and now he's got it built right in, 'round the clock. That means you people are expected to keep to regular visiting hours, and that's an order."_

All day that order had been obeyed, more or less. Laura had been grateful for the solitude, but had also found some comfort in having company for a few hours.

That evening, Kara had walked in only moments after Lee had arrived, and though she had greeted the President with warmth and relief that she was doing so well, it had been obvious that her focus was on the man lying silently behind her. Understanding, Roslin had lifted her chin and nodded towards the Admiral. "You should say hello."

Kara hadn't needed a second invitation and had quickly moved to take up her position at the Admiral's side.

Laura had felt sadness when she saw the fear in the young woman's eyes, and understood the desperation the pilot felt at not being able to do anything. Sighing, she had resolutely turned her attention to Lee. Slowly, softly, they began to converse. Eventually, after she had sat holding Adama's hand for a while, Kara had allowed herself to be drawn into the conversation as well. The three of them had spent a remarkably comfortable hour or so talking quietly.

They had said none of the things most on their minds…

Now, looking at Bill in the muted lighting of the monitors that registered his life signs, she stirred. Tossing her bed covers to one side, she carefully rose and walked stiffly over to his bedside. She looked down at him for a long moment.

"You've got to wake up, Bill," she told him softly. Running the back of her fingers lightly against his cheek, she whispered, "It's been more than a week. We've both got to get out of here and start running the fleet. It's time to start heading for Earth."

He lay there silently, and she took his hand in hers. Lifting it from the bed, she turned and sat beside him, holding his hand in both of hers on her lap. Looking down at it, she massaged it gently. "I'm missing you a lot, Bill," she said softly. "I know we frakked things up royally, but I'd rather have you here alive and angry than not here at all."

Lapsing into silence, she thought back to all the time she had wasted, all the opportunities to love him she had let pass because she had felt that she couldn't have a personal life, couldn't take her focus from the fleet or from her cancer, or from whatever crisis-of-the-moment held her attention. For a long time, she'd felt that loving someone would lessen her somehow; make her a less effective leader, less of a force to be reckoned with. A woman in her position, she had thought, couldn't allow herself the distraction of a life with love in it; it would siphon off her energy, her focus. And she certainly couldn't afford anything with someone who commanded as much authority as Bill. It would be a relationship fraught with difficulties, she had thought. She might lose herself…Better to let sleeping dogs lie…

But the dog had awoken, and the few months she had allowed herself a relationship with him had shown her that perhaps she had been wrong...

And then New Caprica had happened. It had been a mistake of colossal proportions. She knew he felt guilt about that, knew she needed to talk to him about it. He needed to hear that even if the decision had been the wrong one, the reasons for it had been right.

And she knew that she needed to talk about the things she'd done on New Caprica and the decisions she'd made...

Too many of those had been wrong.

She closed her eyes, remembering some of them with regret. In the heat of the moment, when she had been focussed only on what she wanted, they had all made sense. She had not thought about consequences or cost of the people affected, only the goal had been important, only getting what she thought she needed. But afterwards, she had, for the first time in her life, felt that perhaps the ends had not justified them means. The guilt had been a surprise.

Opening her eyes, she regarded the man beside her. Did he know what she had done? Was that the root of his rage and cold remoteness? She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye.

Too many mistakes...

She rose to return to her bed. Placing his hand back where it had lain earlier, she looked down at him and gently combed her fingers through his hair. She loved its texture, loved the silver that weaved its way through it. She shivered as a sudden need surged through her. Carried easily along with it, she acted without thought. Gently moving his arm so that she could fit beside him, she quickly lifted the sheet that covered him and slipped in under it. Lying down on the narrow space beside him, she adjusted herself until she was comfortably pressed against his body. She kissed his shoulder softly and then tucked her head under his jaw and against his neck. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to fall back into memory of a time when he had welcomed her beside him, when he would have held her close and wanted her to lie with him just like this.

"You've got to wake up, Bill," she whispered. "Please..."

As his warmth seeped into her, she relaxed. Here was the only place she could admit to her fears, the only place she could allow herself to react to what was happening. Feeling small and very alone, she fought against tears, then slowly gave into them. Short, muffled sobs made her body shake against his, and she clutched him to her, afraid and helpless. She didn't understand, not fully, what had happened to them, what had happened to their lives and their relationship. She didn't understand his response to her; didn't understand the passion of his lovemaking and the coldness of his rage…but she knew she didn't want to face the future without him.

When she was emptied of tears, her breathing calmed and tension slowly eased from her body. Wiping the tears from her face, she again settled against him, still seeking, still needing the comfort and warmth of his presence. Spreading her palm against the skin of his stomach, she concentrated on the gentle fall and rise of his breathing and the muted thud of his heartbeat.

In a short time, she was lulled into a peaceful sleep.

End  
Chapter 14


	15. Replay

Last chapter, the opening reunion scene was inspired by a review from JetC-freak, whom I thank profusely! This time, I've got a line or two inspired by Goldilocks...

This is a short chapter, but I think the next one may make up for it. Thanks for staying with the story!

The disclaimer's been proclaimed to death, so let's just move on...

**Too High a Cost  
**By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 15  
Replay**

_He had accepted that she needed to go down onto the planet; he'd known how important it was to her that she make a difference. Once she had settled there, he'd spent time with her planetside, and quietly eased into the more relaxed relationship that developed while they quietly talked outside her tent during the brief New Caprican summer. Without discussing it, they'd assumed - or he had, at least - that eventually they would ease the restrictions they put upon themselves in regards to secrecy. _

_And then Baltar, fearing that when Roslin and Adama were together the people naturally regarded them as their leaders, decided the Admiral had no need to visit the planet. _"You are the vangard of the skies_," he told Adama._ "It is in our best interests that you not leave your post. Your being on the planet if an attack should happen would prove disasterous."

_The school teacher, he decreed, had no need to travel back into orbit._

_Laura had acquiesced without demur. There had been no last visit, no chance to say goodbye - just a message from her confirming her compliance. She noted it was unfortunate and mentioned confidence that things would change and that she would be thinking of him._

_In his mind's eye, he saw himself sitting at his desk as he'd read the letter. She'd made her decision, chosen her path. And, as always, had done so unilaterally, without thought for the others involved. _

_He'd felt himself begin to step away. And had begun to take a serious, close look at their relationship. _

_There was an odd sense of relief as he felt himself begin to let go…_

-xxx-

"_Good gods,_" a gruff voice muttered.

A hand shook her shoulder none too gently. "Madame President."

Groggily, Laura turned her head towards the disturbance. "Yes," she said, trying to orientate to her whereabouts.

"I may have given you two a private room, but this_ isn't _a motel. A little discretion while you're in my Life Station would be appreciated! "

Her wits suddenly returning, Laura sat up, looked down at Bill, and then quickly slid from his bed.

"Doctor Cottle," she said as her feet hit the floor.

"None other," he responded. "And who are you, and what are you doing in the Admiral's bed?"

Saying nothing, Laura moved as quickly as she could to her own.

Cottle watched her silently and noted that though she appeared to have some stiffness, there was a greater ease in her movements than the day before. In a dry tone he observed, "Nice to see you up and moving so well."

Her cheeks nicely pink, she crawled into her bed and pulled the sheet up over her. Having no idea what to say, she kept her mouth firmly shut and glared at him.

Not finished with his scolding, he continued, "This isn't the sort of thing I expect to find when I'm doing rounds!"

"Well, if you didn't come in unannounced at strange hours of the night, you wouldn't have anything to worry about," she snapped.

Cottle refrained from grinning. The woman understood the value of a swift counterattack. Liking her temerity, he relaxed his stance.

But didn't give up his offence. After all,_ he_ held the high ground.

"Ma'am, it's morning, and it's my regular time for rounds, and you should be thankful it was _me _coming in this early and not some orderly or medic with a propensity for gossip! What I just saw sure as hell confirmed a lot of rumours." He paused and looked over at the Admiral's readings. "If what I saw was some back-assed attempt at waking him up, though, you're going to have to try harder."

She glared at him.

"I fell asleep."

"Obviously." He jerked his head towards Adama. "_He_ certainly isn't in any condition to keep you awake!"

She bit her tongue. How _dare_ he? And she did _not_ have to explain herself.

Knowing just what was going through her mind, Cottle gestured with his hands. "Look," he said, "You don't have to explain anything." He paused for a beat, then raised his eyebrows. "You in bed with him is about as frakking self-explanatory as it gets. But," he said, glancing at the door, "if you don't want the press salivating at the door, you'd better keep your sleeping arrangements a little more discreet. They're bad enough without your adding fuel to the fire."

She wasn't sure whether he meant her sleeping arrangements or the press - and was damned if she were going to ask.

When she didn't respond to his goading, he smiled inwardly. It wasn't often you saw the President at a loss for words. Good to know he hadn't lost his touch.

He moved over to her bed and picked up her chart to read the notations left by the nurse the previous evening. "I came in to give you the good news that I'll be ready to discharge you sometime tomorrow. I'm rethinking that now, though."

She lost some of her glare. "Why? I'm not doing as well as you thought?"

"You're doing fine. I'm rethinking that it's good news." His eyes travelled over towards the Admiral. "Something tells me you might not be as eager to leave as I'd supposed."

She opened her mouth to say that of course she wanted to leave, but then closed it because it wasn't true, and if there was anyone in the universe who would enjoy making her suffer the consequences for stubbornly lying, it was Cottle. She settled back onto her pillows. Once out of Life Station, she'd have to explain each and every visit back here, and he knew it. The press would be watching, and she certainly wouldn't be able to stay long. Too, while the fleet drifted in space waiting for its leaders to recover, there was little for her to do in the grand scheme of things and certainly nothing that she hadn't been able to do from her bed here in Life Station. Once she left here, however, that would change. She sighed. Staying here was the best option all around

Reading her like a book, Cottle said, "Don't worry. I'll keep you here as long as I can stand it - just try to keep it decent in here."

The glare she gave him slid off his weathered hide like water.

He turned to leave, then stopped. Turning back to face her again, he rasped, "Look, I know there's stuff gone on between you two that doesn't get discussed by anyone." He grunted. "Probably not even by you two. This coma," he said, glancing at Bill before turning back to look at Laura, "is a bastard to try to figure out. I don't think your presence here is a bad thing, I don't even think the interesting sleeping arrangement is a bad thing. Hell, I'll take anything that brings him back - but be careful, Madame President. I've been fighting off the press since you two arrived. I'm doing the best I can, and you'e got the most private room in the place, but I still can't guarantee your privacy."

Laura nodded, but continued to say nothing.

Cottle remained standing in the doorway. He had one other major area of concern: no matter how this woman was acting, he still didn't think Adama would welcome her presence with unmitigated joy when he awoke. He knew the man, had seen his rage… A coma was a very lonely place, and if there were some weird part of the Admiral's psyche keeping him locked into it, there had to be a very significant reason. His guessed that the significant reason heavily involved Laura Roslin. Wondering if he should voice his opinion, he looked at her, took a deep breath - and abruptly decided against saying anything just yet. Hell, she was as messed up as Adama was. He thought about the emotions that had compelled her to crawl into bed beside Bill and shook his head. It was just plain sad. She didn't need more put on her just at the moment.

They were, he decided, two very frakked up people.

Who just happened to be the leaders of the frakking remains of humanity.

The thought gave him a sudden need for a cigarette. Enhaling loudly, he said, "Just be careful."

Laura Roslin nodded her head regally. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Hey, any time," he grunted. With a final nod, he left.

-xxx-

_More times than he could count, he'd forgiven her everything and done what needed to be done to put things right. _

_But when Laura Roslin chose to obey Baltar's order, when she so easily cast aside what they had so painstakingly built, William Adama sat back and began to wonder. There had been ways around it; ways to have still seen one another, but she had chosen not to consider them..._

_Then, because disturbing news carries just as fast as good news, he learned about Zarek. He heard the rumours, knew they made political sense... and knew in his soul she was doing what was being said. _

_His well of forgiveness dried up. _

_Now her betrayal was personal. There could be no excuse, no explanation far-reaching enough to accommodate what she had done. This time, there could be no smoothing over, no putting things right and moving on._

_He felt the accumulated experiences of his entire life coalesce. Under its weight, he paused and realised he had grown weary...Weary of many things, but of late, weary of the betrayals that she called following her duty... tired of the way she subverted the only relationships that mattered to him in the name of a higher purpose._

_He was weary of fighting._

_Weary of trying and failing._

_Weary of getting nowhere._

_Humanity would move forward; it always would. And it could certainly do so without him. There were others more able, and others more willing. His son could take care of the fleet. And Laura - along with whoever she felt she needed - would, for better or worse, take care of the people._

_Peace beckoned, and he slowly relaxed into its arms..._

End  
Chapter 15


	16. Intermezzo

Hmmm...in retrospect, I'd say 'Too much introspection," but it's too late now...

Thank you for the generous reviews. This chapter may be a little disappointing, since it's kinda of a lull between events, but I've messed with it as much as I can, and have decided to give up while I'm ahead. At least, I hope I'm ahead...

Disclaimer: If you've heard it once, you've heard it a million...they're just loaners.

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

-xxxxxxxxxx-

**Chapter 16  
Intermezzo **

Cottle looked up automatically when Meyes entered his office, then quickly trained his eyes back on the chart he was reading. It was the safest thing to do - Dana Meyes had an aptitude for recognising when he had something big on his mind.

When she stopped and looked at him carefully, he groaned inwardly.

When she continued to just stand there, he gathered his strength and inhaled deeply. Looking up at her, he widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows. "What?" he asked innocently. "Got nothing to do, or did I miss a spot shaving?"

Tilting her head to one side, Meyes held his gaze. She was all too familiar with this act. It meant something spectatular had happened that he wasn't ready yet to share. And it was obvious he didn't want her to probe. Modulating her voice into a purposely casual tone, she said, "I'm just signing in, but now that you mention it, you _could_ do with a haircut." The petite brunette paused just long enough a beat for him to think he was maybe off the hook, then asked, "Anything interesting I should know about?"

Cottle mumbled an internal _damn it, _then bit his tongue and forced his face into a bland mask. Doing everything in his power to resist the impulse to tell her - just seeing the look on her face would have been worth it - he reached for a cigarette. Meyes had a romantic streak in her a mile wide, and on occasion they'd shared some observations about who was with whom, who should be with whom, and etcetera. He generally laughed at her straightforward naivete when it came to matters of the heart - at her age, she should have known better - but he also found himself sometimes wishing it were as easy as she would have it to be. If he weakened now and told her where he'd found the President that morning, he knew damned well she'd do one of her deep knee bend sqeees of joy. He enjoyed seeing her do those, enjoyed seeing her that happy for someone, so it was hard to resist sharing...

But he couldn't.

He eyed her. Not yet, anyway.

Besides, he couldn't understand the medic's inexplicable soft spot for a woman he generally regarded as hard as nails and twice as dangerous. Bill, he figured, could do with all the protection from Madame President he could get. Understanding the depth of emotion that had compelled Laura Roslin to crawl into bed with a man in a coma, he could feel pity for her - but it was easy to get over when he looked at the big picture. The Admiral, in his estimation at least, was too straightforward a man and had too much else on his plate to rest easy with the machinations of a woman like Roslin. Looking at Meyes, he inwardly confirmed his decision. No need, he decided, to create a situation where someone might actively encourage whatever it was Roslin hoped to accomplish with Adama.

Should Adama ever decide to wake up, of course.

So he kept his resolve. "Interesting? Nothing world-shattering," he said curtly. "One of the patients sent over from the _Queen_ yesterday didn't make it through the night, but we expected that. He's been taken to the morgue already. Other than that, it's steady as she goes."

She nodded. Still watching him carefully, she asked, "How is the President this morning? Do you still plan to let her go tomorrow?"

Cottle began to relax. "She's doing fine," he said. "I may keep her a little longer, though. We still don't have blood test results back - and I'm not sure she should be at the beck and call of those vultures in the Quorum. She'll overtax herself and end up back in here if I let her out too soon."

"And the Admiral? How is he doing?"

Remembering the comfortable way the President had been wrapped around him, he grunted.

"_Better than most," _he muttered under his breath.

Meyes frowned. "Pardon me?"

Cottle cleared his throat. In a normal tone he said, "No change there," and looked at her as though she should be listening better.

Meyes pursed her lips. Whatever it was he was keeping from her was something big, but he wasn't talking. Knowing that once he made up his mind it was hopeless to try to change it, she decided not to press, but to opt for patience.

Slowly, she began to smile. He always, she thought with satisfaction, told her sooner or later.

-xxx-

_He'd felt her warmth leave him, but no thought accompanied it. Vaguely aware of sounds and sensations, he lay silently, relaxing as his body gradually slowed its processes into a final rest..._

_Letting go was easy..._

-xxx-

Roslin had barely finished her breakfast when Tory Foster walked in with an armload of files. Laura smiled, welcoming the chance to think of something besides the embarrassment she'd endured earlier that morning.

While Tory got herself settled, however, Laura's thoughts once again drifted to the doctor.

_Damn him._

She knew frakking well he'd be looking at her with knowing amusement for the next lifetime.

Her gaze drifted towards Bill. The cat was definitely out of the bag where Cottle was concerned. She'd need to apologise for that when he woke up.

She then felt herself colour at the thought of explaining _why_ Cottle knew.

Once she had her papers and notebooks arranged, Tory stilled, then followed the President's gaze. She sighed softly. When she'd first taken on the job as presidential aide, she'd quickly realised that there was a lot of beneath-the-surface interaction going on between her boss and the Admiral of the Fleet. So much, in fact, that she'd rather taken for granted that they were on their way to something nicely sexual and stress-reducing.

She'd thought it a good idea, all things considered. Yes, there were inherent political difficulties in such an arrangement, but she was sure they'd both be able to keep things quiet. People in power, she'd learned, frakked liked rabbits and were better than most at keeping it confidential. Both Adama and Roslin, she was sure, would be capable of a great degree of discretion. Sex, she'd decided, was just what both of them needed.

At one point, she'd have bet money that they were already involved.

But, though Laura Roslin was a wonderful, decisive president, she sure as hell didn't know how to conduct a personal life. It almost explained how the older woman had remained in a go-nowhere relationship with that sonofabitch Adar for all those years. In any event, when New Caprica happened, Laura Roslin had made some politically expedient decisions she perhaps should not have, and when they'd returned to space, they'd returned to a fleet led by a man who could hardly bear to be in the same room as she.

It had only been then that Tory had guessed that the relationship between Adama and the President had gone deeper than what she had imagined. Adama, she realised, must have somehow learned about Zarek. Laura Roslin's propensity for acting in a politically expedient manner without examining the potential consequences for others had finally caught up with her - on a personal level, at least.

She glanced at Roslin, then back at the Admiral. Roslin had got exactly what she wanted from her relationship with Vice President Zarek - an ear to what was happening in President Baltar's office during their first year on New Caprica. She had also received the somewhat surprising added bonus of a quick move back into the president's chair after their exodus from the planet.

But she'd also lost something - _someone_, actually - that she obviously wanted back, and she had no idea how to handle it.

Tory sighed. Nice, casual sex. No one seemed to know how to do it any more.

Even Zarek, the idiot, still looked like a wounded caribou. Roslin now treated him in the same casually indifferent but certainly pleasant manner she treated anyone, although she did try to remember to be grateful to him. He'd definitely, however, been relegated to an arms-length position sometime shortly before his alleged incarceration by the cylons. Now, months after their return, he still sometimes wore a _what happened _look on his face when he looked at the President. It made Tory smile. She didn't care for him, and certainly felt no pity.

As an expert in politically expedient actions, he'd have done the same thing Roslin had, under the same circumstances.

Setting her thoughts aside, she took out her notes to begin the morning's agenda.

Trying to forget the embarrassment of being discovered in Bill's bed, Laura noticed the movement and welcomed the diversion. "This today's lot?" she asked.

Tory nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Settling straight down to business, the aide said, "We've received a few more reports of pilots refusing to carry supplies to the ships more severely hit by the bacterial infection. They're calling them 'plague ships' and claim that delivering goods to them puts them at too great a risk. As private individuals, they feel than cannot be forced to deliver anywhere they don't want to."

Laura frowned. "That's ridiculous. There are people who need what those ships are transporting. The food and medicines they're carrying are vital. They can't-"

"I'm afraid they can, ma'am. And some of them have already."

"But supplies are still getting through?"

"More slowly, but yes. I don't know how long that will last, though. Unless we come up with a vaccine against this stuff, I think we're going to have a real problem. More and more pilots," she explained, "will be too afraid to go anywhere. There are rumours that a strike might be organised to shut down _all _supply transports."

Not liking the sound of that, Laura sat back. "Keep a close eye on the situation," she told Tory. "I'd like to talk to the military to see what they can do to help us. We need a backup plan, and may need them to help make deliveries. Arrange a meeting for tomorrow if you can. Here, obviously." After Tory nodded and made a note in her agenda, Laura continued, "What about the Quorum?"

The next two hours were spent going over business. There was a lot to plough through: the bacterial outbreak had caused problems in a number of areas; the Quorum wanted to know when they would have direct access to the president; food and water were going to become a problem if the fleet didn't move soon, and there were issues surrounding changes to the Colonial Fleet Education Act. The list, though manageable, seemed endless.

When Dana Meyes entered the room, however, they had just finished wrapping things up.

She nodded at them and apologised. "Sorry for interrupting, I'm just here to check on the Admiral. How are you this morning, Madame President?"

Laura smiled. "I'm fine." Instinctively, her eyes moved towards Bill's bed.

Knowing where the woman's thoughts were headed, Dana assured her, "From what Doctor Cottle tells me, the Admiral is doing just fine, too!"

_Cottle..._

Laura looked at the medic sharply, then relaxed when she saw no deeper meaning in her words. If she _ever_ learned Cottle had said anything to anyone about this morning, she'd have his balls on a platter.

Tory watched the President with interest. The woman felt uncomfortable about something. She looked over at the Admiral, then back at Roslin, and felt an unaccustomed sense of sadness. She was sure the older woman regretted her 'the end justifies the means' approach to everything in her path - in regard to one instance, anyways. It had cost her her relationship with Adama, and she guessed that the President now realised that cost had been too high.

Meyes busied herself with preparing the personal care items she'd need to attend to the Admiral. With a softly spoken, "Excuse me," she pulled a curtain around the Admiral's bed.

The closing of the curtain also seemed to signal a close to their morning meeting. Gathering the files and folders she needed to leave with, Tory stood and nodded at the President. She would have liked to have said something reassuring, something that would take away the older woman's air of sadness, but knew that no words would help at the moment. Smiling her goodbye, she quietly took her leave.

-xxx-

_Snippets of words, warm voices, thoughts...a touch...darkness and oblivion..._

_...restless memories of crisis and danger and narrow escape..._

_He recognised the surge of energy, the adrenaline rush of confidently wielding power. Thinking fast, acting faster...orders given and obeyed._

_But there were so few left..._

_Fighting against the urge to feel and act, he pushed himself back into darkness..._

_-xxx-_

Lunch had arrived, been examined and returned, and now Laura prepared herself for the inevitable afternoon visitors. By far the most interesting - and most disturbing - visit would be from Sharon Valerii. She had arrived later in the afternoon and, by accident or design, she arrived when there were no other visitors.

"No Helo today?" Laura enquired when she saw the young woman arrive alone.

Sharon shook her head. "He's on CAP this afternoon. Commander Adama is making sure we stay alert. This is the longest we've remained in one place in quite some time, and it's making him edgy," she told the President.

Laura nodded.

"I wanted to see for myself how the Admiral's doing," Sharon explained. Looking at the person she had really come to see, she asked, "Has he shown any improvement?"

Everyone asked that. Today, the answer disturbed Laura more than she liked to admit.

Not knowing why it bothered her to say it when Cottle had assured her at lunchtime that it was nothing to worry about, she said, "His blood pressure is down and his heartbeat is a little slower. Cottle says it's no cause to worry, though. Otherwise, he's the same as usual."

Sharon walked over to the Admiral's side and looked down at him. Resting her hand on his arm lightly, she turned to look at the President. "The past year was difficult for him."

Laura shifted uncomfortably. Sharon had a way of skipping the social pleasantries and going straight to whatever it was she wanted to say. Having the feeling she might not like the conversation Sharon wanted to have, Laura said, "It was hard on us all. His rescue of us was quite a feat."

"Some would say a foolhardy one," Sharon added.

"Perhaps, but he's a man who does what he believes needs to be done."

There was a warmth in the President's voice that made Sharon look over at her. "Within reason," the cylon tempered. "He always looks at the situation and weighs the cost first."

Roslin looked at her. No point in beating around the bush. "Are you trying to make a point, Lieutenant Valerii?"

"I think you know I am, Madame President."

"To what end?"

Sharon shrugged, and looked back at Adama. "I'm not really sure," she said softly. "If the Admiral doesn't come out of this coma, perhaps it's pointless, but it's important you understand that although the destination is important, how you get there is important, too." Her fingers lightly squeezed his arm. "He's been examining that thought for some time now."

Laura frowned. She didn't need people off the street comin gin to give her advice. And she didn't like this woman, didn't like her quiet, calm manner when pointing out her perceived faults. She was too confident and too serene and far too self-contained. And she - or at least another model of her - had tried to assassinate the man she now stood over and regarded with such care.

Bill's acceptance - fondness, even - for this young cylon was a great source of puzzlement for her..

She didn't like puzzles. Except for the challenge of political intrigue, she liked things neat, tidy and straightforward. For some reason, it was Bill who was more fascinated by philosophical intricacies. It wasn't really a suitable characteristic for someone in his chosen career path, but there you were. That was Bill.

"On Kobol, you were more concerned about trust, if I remember correctly," Laura said.

"I'm still concerned about trust. Trust is what is found at the root of all positive human interaction."

"Something you would know little about," Laura pointed out.

"On the contrary. I have had the experience of learning it very well. And I value it."

Sharon held Roslin's eyes with her own dark ones. "You can't hide from the things you have done, Madam President. Admiral Adama certainly hasn't. Nor has he tried to hide from with others have done. Colonel Tigh calls it 'ass covering'," she quoted crudely, "and that's one way of putting it, I suppose, but whatever you call it, Admiral Adama faced the consequences of other people's actions and dealt with them. He continued to trust until there was no choice but to stop because the betrayals were just too much."

Laura took in her words, then said softly, "There's no physical reason for Admiral Adama's coma, you know. He's given up. Cottle can't explain it any other way."

Sharon blinked at the change in topic, then looked down at him. "The fleet needs him. He makes us better, makes us want to be better. He can't give up."

On this point, Laura was inclined to agree. The fear, however, remained that he had.

To her surprise, Sharon turned. Obviously confident in what she was about to say, she spoke. "He won't give up. He wouldn't. His job isn't done yet. But you need to examine your actions and mend the broken trust between you two." She held the President's gaze a long moment. When the President said nothing, she removed her hand from the Admiral's arm.

"I've got to go now," she said quietly.

After Sharon was gone, Roslin sat staring into space for some time. She'd said goodbye to Bill once: an unsatisfactory note that said nothing. She'd let him go because it had seemed that that was what the Fates had dictated. He had been on the _Galactica_, she had been left on New Caprica. Barred from seeing him, tired of fighting, she had set her sights on practicalities, and the situation she had then been faced with. No point, she had thought, to regret what couldn't be...

Now she realised she had screwed up royally.

She sighed and redirected her thoughts. Part of her believed that Sharon's stubborn refusal to consider that Bill had given up was a foolhardy inability for the young woman to face reality.

Another part of her clung to the cylon's confidence, and searched for ways to do what she had ordered.

She turned soft green eyes towards him and felt some of the sense of defeat she had felt at times on New Caprica. She hadn't been able to reach him before; how could she reach him now?

-xxx-

_Giving up...giving in..._

_Light and dark and grey and shadow...murmurs and movement...a desire to shift..._

_His mind travelled intricate paths, exploring, seeking..._

_Finding..._

_Too much too soon too old too cold..._

_Can a ship driven by storm turn into the wind?_

_End  
Chapter 16  
_


	17. Review

My apologies for taking so long. I hope to post the next chapter this weekend...

Warning: Bill's still being stubborn, but not for much longer. I apologise for the brief segue into Cottle's past...it was hard to resist. Hmmm...Make that _impossible_ to resist...but I did try to keep it brief and to the point...

Thanks again for still being here to read, and for those who comment - thank you for the happy thoughts. I hope this entertains.

Disclaimer...hasn't changed. Not likely to.**  
**

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx- **

**Chapter 17**

**Review **

After Sharon's visit, Laura eventually succeeded in falling into a short, troubled nap. When she awoke, the rest of her day followed much the same routine all her days had since her arrival in Life Station: she'd read the reports left for her by Tory, then had dinner; Tory had come in after that for the day's recap, and then she'd had visitors. Tonight, Kara and Tigh had dropped in.

The day couldn't be complete, however, without one last appearance from Cottle.

It wasn't something she had been looking forward to.

He walked in about an hour after evening visiting hours were over. Much to Laura's surprise, he appeared to have little to say. First, he examined Bill's chart. He frowned, but made no comment. Then he took a few steps to the foot of Laura's bed and picked up the clipboard that hung from the foot rail. Reading it quickly, he said, "You're doing just fine." Finally looking directly at her, he asked, "You making sure you get up and walk around every couple of hours?"

Laura nodded. Cottle said nothing more. Replacing the clipboard, he moved towards the door.

Having no idea that from the moment he'd arrived, the man had been putting a superhuman effort into biting his tongue, Laura watched him with a certain amount of astonishment. He hadn't said a thing out of the ordinary. No pithy innuendo, no ribald remark, not one caustic comment.

There hadn't been a single smirk or knowing glance.

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

She sat in stunned silence as he stopped before opening the door to leave. His hand still on the door knob, he hesitated and then turned. Obviously debating something with himself, he finally said in a gruff tone, "You won't be disturbed again tonight. I'm going to tell the night staff to skip the twelve o'clock check and to leave you alone. You're doing fine, and they can keep an eye on the Admiral's monitors from the head desk without coming in here."

Laura just stared at him.

With a hint of impatience, he waved a hand in the direction of the Admiral and explained, "That's my subtle hint you can indulge in whatever sleeping arrangement you want. None of my staff will be in to bother you until morning."

Roslin coloured. She teetered between total embarrassment and anger over the man's temerity. How _dare_ he make assumptions? How dare he even _allude_ to what he'd walked in on this morning? How dare-

Abruptly, she rolled over onto her side. Flipping her blanket up over her shoulder, she ground out a curt, "Good night, Doctor."

Raising an eyebrow at her frosty tone, he snorted. "You're welcome, I'm sure - and good night to you, too." Shaking his head, he opened the room's door. Gods, the woman was irritating. Who was she trying to fool? He knew damned well where she'd end up before the night was out. Glancing back before stepping out into the hallway, he half wished he'd said all the things he'd wanted to say but hadn't because he was (and gods knew why) trying to act with a little restraint.

He shuddered. Restraint. He must have been out of his frakking mind.

That thought brought him to a sudden halt, because he was very afraid there was an element of truth to his being out of his mind. He preferred things straight, clean and simple, and this whole business with Adama and Roslin had him going a little crazy. He didn't like how torn he felt about it - on one hand wanting to keep her as far away from Adama as possible, but on the other, wanting Bill to have the comfort of her presence if that's what he needed. His feelings _should _have been much more straightforward: she was either good for Bill or bad for him, case closed.

The corners of his mouth curved downward. It wasn't that easy, though. Firmly closing the door behind him, he admitted she was probably more bad for him than good, but no matter how hard he tried to push it away, a small, stubborn part of him knew there were things about her that would attract the Admiral mightily. She was smart and challenging and beautiful.

And ornery as a mule.

Bill, godsdamn him, would trip all over himself falling for something like that. He'd also seen them together; seen them go through her cancer and near death and watched them as she'd recovered. And, he grudgingly admitted, there were things about her, perhaps, that might have had an outside chance of maybe even being good for him...There certainly had been times Bill had looked almost happy...

_Frak it, you old coot! _he thought_. You're grasping at straws, here. Meyes is rubbing off on you._

He grimaced. That would certainly explain his hope that Roslin hopped into bed with Bill as soon as the door closed. But hell, sentimental drivel or not, if the warmth of being next to another human being drew Bill back from wherever it was he'd taken himself, it was all to the good. Clenching his jaw, he decided that if Roslin's presence managed to do that, he didn't care about what degree of bad she was for him - he'd figure out how to keep her away once Adama regained consciousness.

Chiding himself, he reached for a cigarette. _Just listen to me, he thought. Meyes would laugh her fool head off if she could read my mind right now..._

-xxx-

Laura heard Cottle leave and stubbornly closed her eyes. No way would she leave her bed for Bill's tonight. How _dare_ Cottle suggest that-

She clamped down on her anger and, lifting her head, she punched her pillow in frustration a couple of times. Gods. Even when Cottle said barely anything he was infuriating. Flopping her head back down on it, she tried to force herself to relax into sleep.

She schooled her breathing, forcing it to slow and even out. She centred her thoughts, envisioned peaceful scenes and imagined soft strains of soulful music. She forced her muscles to relax...

And listened as the night sounds surrounding her grew in significance. Footsteps in the hallway echoed; muted voices grew in volume; the hum of the air filtration unit made her nerves vibrate...

But most of all, she became focussed on Bill's breathing. It sounded gentle, restful...and slow. She felt herself begin to tense. Unsettled in a way she couldn't fathom, she made a disgusted sound and rose. Walking over to his bedside, she stopped. This time, there was no hesitation. Lifting the covers, she slipped into bed beside him.

In her mind, she could hear Cottle's derisive chuckle.

_Frak him._

Bill felt warm and familiar, and she exhaled softly. Placing a slender thigh over his leg, she pressed herself against him and ran her palm over his chest. Moving her cheek against his shoulder, she closed her eyes and felt her body truly relax.

How could she have taken this for granted? How could she have put what they shared at risk?

_How could she go on alone?_

She felt a sob rise up in her chest again and firmly tamped it down.

Softly, she began to whisper to him...

-xxx-

_Warmth... Movement... Touch... Words swirling in darkness like vapour... impossible to hear, too hard to decipher..._

_The touch of a tear._

_Calculations, permutations..._

_Dull resistance._

_Darkness relaxed against him..._

_His breathing slowed still further._

-xxx-

Laura awoke to the gentle rise and fall of someone else's breathing. _Bill. _Stretching her arm across him, she nestled her head more comfortably on his shoulder and kept her eyes closed. For just a moment, she could pretend...

As sounds increased in the hallway outside, however, she knew that she had to move. Someone would be in soon - Cottle, most likely - and she wanted to make sure he didn't find her anywhere near Bill. Reluctantly, she rose. After putting the coverlet back into place and smoothing it carefully, she walked towards the bathroom.

Once there, the thought of a shower was inviting, so she decided she might as well get ready for the day. Checking to see that there was a clean hospital gown on the shelf, she turned on the shower tap.

-xxx-

Cottle knocked softly on the door and cursed himself for being a fool as he did so. Since when did a doctor knock on a life station door before entering? Besides, he'd already warned Roslin to keep things decent - which, considering Bill's condition, shouldn't have been outside the realm of her capabilities.

Still, he paused a moment before opening the door.

When he entered the room, his gaze immediately travelled to Adama's bed. When he saw no Roslin, he glanced over to the other side of the room in surprise. Her bed was empty. The sound of the shower running then registered and he relaxed.

Walking over to Bill, he looked down at the man he had known for too many years and shook his head. "Bill, you old fool, you've got to stop this," he said in an undertone. "It's driving everyone crazy, me included." He propped open one of the Admiral's eyelids and shone a light into his eye. "Too many of us misfits need you to put up with us. We're getting nervous; not everyone has your patience."

Adama had been willing to put up with more of his idiosyncrasies than any commanding officer he'd ever served under. He'd been allowed to do things - and say things - that would have gotten him kicked off any other ship.

Hell, that _had_ gotten him kicked off other ships.

Over drinks one night, he'd once asked Bill why.

His commanding officer had responded easily.

"_Why do I put up with you? Because I trust you," Adama had said. "You know what's important. You're straight up and you're not afraid to tell the truth, even if people don't want to hear it." He'd then tipped his glass in a salute and added with a half-smile, "And because you're the best half-decent doctor I know, and some day I'm going to need your services."_

The half-assed compliment was pure Adama, and Cottle had never forgotten it.

Moving to get Adama's chart, Cottle continued his one-sided conversation. "I'm telling you straight up, Bill. We can't do without you; not yet. Your son's a good man, but he's not ready for the responsibility of running the fleet. And you and I both know Tigh's still a frakked up mess; he'd be a disaster. Roslin's going to need your guidance, too. Someone needs to make her listen to reason." He paused. When he spoke next, his voice was gruffer. "Smarten up and wake up, Old Man. Frak it - lying on your back isn't how you handle things."

Hearing the shower shut off, he made a couple of quick notations on Bill's chart and then put it back into place. Stepping towards Roslin's bed, he picked up her clipboard and examined it for a moment before again addressing Bill.

"One of these days we're going to have to have a talk about you and this woman. She-"

The washroom door opened and he stopped abruptly. Looking up from the chart, he nodded his head in greeting. "Madame President," he said blandly.

"Doctor," she said in return. Not knowing what to expect from him, she looked at him warily as she moved across the floor and slipped into her bed. Her hair was still wet, and hung in dark, heavy waves around her face.

Cottle stepped closer to her side and began the cursory medical examination that had become their habit over the past couple of days. Taking her wrist, he counted her pulse, then took out a small flashlight the size of a pen and shone it into her eyes.

Trying not to blink, she asked, "Why do you do this?"

"I have no idea," he said as he straightened. "Saw it done on television once and liked the look of it. But don't worry, you're right as rain." Putting the flashlight back into his pocket, he looked at her directly for the first time and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel good. I still appreciate an afternoon nap, though."

He nodded. "It'll take a while longer to be up to full speed, but you've definitely made a remarkable recovery." Turning, he returned to Adama's bedside and looked closely at the monitors on the wall over his bed. "Unlike this gentleman here. I don't know what the hell's up with him. His heart rate is down again," he commented. "How was his breathing last night?"

The question immediately put her on the defensive. "How would I know?" she asked.

His eyebrows lifted at her quick reply. He turned slowly. Looking at her pointedly, he said, "I just assumed that with your head on his shoulder, you might have noticed." Looking down, he carefully picked a long reddish hair off Bill's chest. Holding it up to emphasise his words, he asked, "I mean, what do you suppose the odds are that it was some _other_ redhead left this here?"

Wishing she had something to throw at him, Laura bit her tongue.

_Damn him_, _damn him, damn him_.

Knowing better than to say any of the utterly stupid denials that first came to mind, she looked at him silently for a moment. Finally she said, "His breathing has always been slower than mine, but it's much slower than before, if that's what you mean. But he didn't seem to be having _trouble_ breathing, if that makes sense."

His first thought was that it was way more information than he needed to know, but he still filed away the fact that she had charted his breathing against her own. Setting the thought aside, he curved his lips into a slight smile.

"That wasn't so hard to say, was it? And that's exactly what I needed to know. Good." He looked over at the monitor readings again and his smile faded. Everything was fine, technically, and there was no reason for the downward trend Bill's chart indicated. He shook his head. Coasting into death wasn't Adama's style, but if he allowed himself to drift along much further, there'd be no stopping the descent.

"I may have to put him on a ventilator if he doesn't start breathing a bit stronger on his own," he said.

It was a prognostication that troubled both doctor and president. On this, at last, they found themselves on common ground...

-xxx-

_Work to do and words to speak..._

_So tired..._

_Unfinished business..._

_Rest..._

_The storm slowly shifted..._

End  
Chapter 17


	18. Revive

Well. Here we are again! My apologies for being so slow - I prefer the two chapters a week thing, but life just isn't co-operating...Thanks to those putting up with the delays and reading anyway.

Disclaimer: I hate repeating myself. So I won't.

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 18**

**Revive **

"They're not listening, Madame President," Lee said.

Roslin frowned. Tory had informed her during their morning briefing that there had been more reports of pilots refusing to fly needed supplies to certain ships. A meeting had been hasitly arranged, and Tom Zarek had been given instructions and quickly dispatched to speak with them. Disappointingly, he had returned several hours later shaking his head. Valerant, the pilot's appointed leader, had said little and had ended the meeting abruptly. No headway had been made in resolving the issue.

Now, both Tigh and Lee Adama sat beside her hospital bed, trying to find a reasonable solution to the growing problem. So far, they hadn't come up with anything workable. Laura knew that the refusals to fly, however, had to stop. People were suffering - and beginning to panic.

"Well, they'd better start listening," she said in a decisive tone. "Tell them if they don't start flying to _all_ ships in the fleet, their flight privileges will be taken away."

"Who will be left to fly supplies if we do that?" Tigh objected. "The military can't and won't take over civilian runs. We don't have the manpower - a number of our pilots are ill from this stuff too, remember, and we can't leave the fleet exposed by taking pilots off CAP."

She paused to think. He was right. They'd already lost both military and civilian pilots to the bacterial infection, so to deliberately remove more from the roster would only exacerbate the problem of having too few people to move supplies.

Tigh sighed heavily. "We need to send in troops and show them who's boss. First thing we can do is arrest their leader. Vice President Zarek got nowhere with him today, so it's obvious he doesn't want to listen, let alone think about the repercussions of what he's doing. The man's nothing but an alarmist and a malcontent. Get rid of Valerant, and the others will fall into place."

Roslin was prevented from commenting when the phone installed beside her bed rang just as a knock came to the door. Lee rose to respond to the knock while she reached over to get the phone. As she handled a very one-sided conversation, Lee returned and passed Colonel Tigh a note that had been handed to him at the door.

The President hung up the phone just as Tigh looked up from reading the note.

"Gentlemen," she said, "we appear to have a growing crisis on our hands. We've received reports of ships loading all passengers showing signs of bacterial infection onto passenger shuttles for immediate removal. The _Aurora Dawn_ has already filled four transport shuttles with people and has sent them out into the fleet. All the ships they've approached have refused to take them, saying that they don't have the supplies or medicines to care for them. They now appear to be headed towards the _Galactica."_

"What do they expect to accomplish by sending their sick out into the fleet?" Lee muttered.

"The _Aurora_ hasn't had medicine or other supplies shipped to her for five days. According to Tory, the captain is afraid that if they don't get rid of their ill, pilots will continue to refuse to deal with them," Laura told him. "His situation is becoming critical: he needs repairs done if he's going to make the next jump with us and none of the repair crews are willing to come; he needs food and medicines, and he's not getting them. He tried sending out a transport of their own to pick up supplies, but it was refused docking privileges. The captain of _that_ ship cited a concern of increasing the contagion. The only thing the _Aurora _could think of to do was to get rid of the people preventing the ships from landing."

Lee frowned. The _Aurora Dawn_ had been one of the ships most heavily hit by the bacteria. It had been labelled 'the plague ship', and had been the first to be blacklisted by transport pilots. It only made sense that at some point not only would people not want to go there, they wouldn't want visitors from there, either.

"But shipping out their sick won't get rid of the problem; anyone still left can begin to show symptoms after the others have left," he pointed out.

"You're expecting logic," Laura said. "This is a knee-jerk reaction. Right now, people are panicked. They need supplies that aren't coming, they've got sick people they can't help, and they've got healthy people scared for their lives. Since they can't leave the ship - they know how valuable a resouce that is - their first impulse is to try to dump what they regard as the immediate problem and hope for the best."

Tigh held up the note Lee had passed to him. "Well, the people they're dumping are about thirty minutes away. All five hundred of them," he said gruffly.

Lee's eyebrows shot up. Now truly afraid that the situation was spiralling out of control, he exclaimed, "Five hundred shoved into_ four_ commuting shuttles? They're treating them like cattle! What are they thinking?"

"I think we've covered their reasoning already," Laura pointed out.

"They're crazy."

Roslin shrugged. "Our problem is what happens when other black-listed ships follow suit and start sending _their_ sick here." She looked at Tigh. "How many of these people can _Galactica _handle?" she asked calmly.

Tigh cleared his throat. "Nothing near the number that could end up here. I'd need Cottle to confirm it, but I believe fleet-wide, there is presently something like four thousand people in various stages of infection."

Lee gave a low whistle. "If even half of them showed up here..."

Tigh shot him a look. Whistling on a ship was bad luck. "It'd be a disaster," he said.

"We have to force them to return to their ship," Lee said in a low voice. "We have no choice."

The three fell into silence, each envisioning the disaster of the _Galactica_ defending itself against what could basically be considered civilian refugees.

"And if they refuse to return?" Roslin asked.

"Then we send out vipers to warn them off," Tigh said decisively.

Lee didn't like the direction Tigh's thoughts were headed. "Perhaps simply closing the pod doors would be less confrontational," he suggested.

"And the pilots coming back from CAP? Where do you want them to land?" Tigh asked.

Looking down at his hands, Lee knew Tigh had a point. Though he didn't like the idea of sending out vipers to warn the shuttles off, he saw no other recourse. Having all those people - all those sick,_ contagious_ people - setting up shop on the ship responsible for defending the Fleet was simply not an option. _Galactica_ already had the fleet's most seriously ill in her Life Station, and their medical resources were strained as it was. To fill up with a thousand or so more...

It ws time to make tough decisions. Reluctantly, he said, "You're right. Showing some muscle might make them back down. We don't know if the _Aurora_ will take them back, though. We'll need to talk to the captain. It's imperative that they understand we mean what we say."

Roslin frowned. The media were going to have a field day with this. Imagining all the sensationalism they would manage to wring out of the situation, she felt a momentary panic. Things were devolving too rapidly into a scenario that could destroy her administration, delay, or perhaps even put a halt to their journey to Earth, and cost the lives of innocent people in the process.

A throat cleared, then a voice rasped, "No. No vipers. You need to talk to Valerant."

The three froze, then Laura scrambled out of bed. She beat the two men to Bill's side by a nose.

"Ohmygods, Bill."

Lee barely had time to briefly acknowledge his father before Roslin turned to him and said, "Get Doctor Cottle!"

Not registering any of the shock and flurry of movement around him, Bill focussed on Tigh and continued in a low tone, "Valerant can get the transports resumed. He stopped them; he can start them again." His voice hoarse from disuse, he said, "You just need to talk to him."

Gripping his forearm tightly and not taking her eyes off him, Laura's mind screamed, '_He's all right!_' over and over, while her voice calmly told him, "We sent Tom Zarek to talk to him already. He got nowhere."

Adama grimaced and swallowed dryly.

His voice deep, and sounding as though it were being dragged over sand and gravel, he said, "Of course he got nowhere. Tom Zarek's a terrorist and a crook. Richard Valerant is many things, but he's neither of those. Send someone trustworthy, and he'll listen."

His words made Laura recoil.

Glancing at the President, Tigh moved closer to the bed. "Don't worry yourself, Bill; we'll handle it okay," he said in a reassuring tone. "You shouldn't be talking. Glad to see you back with us, though." He placed a heavy hand on Bill's shoulder. Relief coloured his voice as he said, "We thought you were signing out for good, Old Man."

Adama looked at his friend. "Guess you were wrong," he said wryly.

Tigh grinned. "I can handle that kind of wrong."

Adama felt his hand being squeezed. He turned his gaze to his left and acknowledged Laura formally. "Madame President."

She fought back tears. "Bill." She reached out a hand to run her fingers through his hair, then stopped abruptly when Bill turned his head away and looked at Tigh.

"Someone going to explain what happened and how I got here?"

Tigh blinked. Quickly understanding that Bill had attended to business upon waking without having any idea what had happened to him, he said, "You and the President were shot on Kobol. I came down to pick you up. Cottle came, too. Good thing, as it happened, because you and the President were in rough shape. It was touch and go with you both for a while."

Bill frowned as bits and hints of memory began to return. Feeling disorientated, he said, "You and Cottle, eh? I'm starting to think there's a real shortage around here of people who can follow orders."

His eyes travelled the room and he tried not to think too much about the woman standing beside his bed or the way her hand felt against his skin. Tigh had said she'd been shot. Relief that she was up and okay segued into a flash of dark memory... of rain and pain and a weight against his chest. Startled by it, he asked, "How long have I been here?"

"Better than a week," Tigh said.

_Impossible_, Bill thought. He opened his mouth to say so, but before he could, Cottle came into the room in a flurry of white coat and cigarette smoke. Lee followed close behind.

As Tigh stepped back to give him room next to Bill, Cottle grumbled, "Gods. Everything happens at once!" Shooting a glance at the President, he said briefly, "I just got off the phone; the lab is getting all excited, thinking they're maybe on to something." Looking at Bill, he said, "And now you're awake. And I was just getting used to the peace and quiet!"

"Sorry," Bill said with a weak smile.

"Don't be. It's real good to see you." Reaching for his stethoscope, he looked in the President's direction and lifted one shaggy eyebrow. "I'm sure there are a couple others who would agree."

Still focussed on Bill, Laura didn't respond, so Cottle spoke to her directly. "Ma'am," he told her, "You might want to put on a robe before you get chilled."

Roslin looked down at herself and resisted the urge to glare at one of the most irritating men left in the universe.

"Of course, Doctor. Thank you," she said in a not very sweet tone.

Moving to her bed, she lifted the robe hanging over the end of it and slipped it on. Sliding her feet into slippers, she returned to Bill's side. Tossing her hair behind her shoulders, she planted herself firmly, silently daring Cottle to suggest she move.

Cottle ignored her and got on with his examination.

While the doctor pressed his stethoscope here and there over his chest, Lee came into view and Bill remembered his original train of thought. Speaking around Cottle, who continued to examine and prod, he began, "Have Jason DeCourt speak to Valerant."

Lee, who had moved in close enough to put a hand on his father's shoulder, frowned. "Who's he?"

Cottle paused and narrowed his eyes. Looking up at Tigh and Lee, he said, "Gentlemen, I can't hear a thing! I need you all to shut up and back off. Whatever you're talking about can wait. My patient is now resting under medical supervision, and will be for the next hour, at least. Then I _may_ let you resume whatever conversation was so important that the Admiral here felt he had to wake up and participate in it!"

Tigh opened his mouth to object. "We-"

"No, I said shut up!" Cottle interrupted.

Tigh tried again, "Listen, you-"

"Shhhh!" Cottle ordered. Holding up a hand, he said, "Not a word! I mean it. Now clear out of here and let me do my job."

As Tigh closed his mouth and stepped back, Lee moved.

Cottle glared at him. "That goes for you, too. You've seen him awake, you know he's okay, now get out," he said, gesturing with his hands. "I'll tell you when you can come back. I don't care what the crisis is, this man's got to have some peace and quiet while I observe him, or he'll be no help to you at all."

Laura stepped away while Cottle admonished the two officers. She couldn't help but let a smile cross her features. She'd be staying. _She_ belonged here, and Cottle couldn't order her out - there was nowhere for her to go.

"I'll just go lie down for a few moments," she said sweetly.

"Yes, you go do that," he rasped, hating that she was acting like she'd won a battle he hadn't even declared yet.

Tigh and Lee looked at one another. Both wanted to object. After a look at Adama, who now had his eyes closed, and then at Cottle, who looked determined to have his way, they decided against it.

"We need to talk to him as soon as possible, Doctor. It's important," Lee said.

"Of course it's important. It's always important," the doctor groused. "Right now, I don't care," he grumbled as he turned his focus onto Adama. "Unless the world's coming to an end again, I want the Admiral's ass out of the woods and feeling right as rain before he starts saving the fleet."

Feeling oddly removed, Bill lay quietly while the tug of wills went on around him. He kept his eyes closed and ignored Jack Cottle's mixed metaphors. Breathing deeply, he felt a stab in his upper chest, and winced.

He felt as though he'd travelled far, but couldn't remember where he had been or what had happened. Whatever it had been, however, was causing him some pain. He searched his recent memory. Tigh had said he'd been shot...In a flash, he remembered Laura's weight thrown against him, remembered falling and holding her tightly against himself...

..and he remembered the rain on his face and the warmth of where she lay on him...

His hand had searched and found hers...

He drew back from the memory. She was okay. She was here. Mustering his concentration, he tried to figure out the when of it. He didn't know if he'd been unconscious an hour or a dozen.

But wait. Saul had told him more than a week.

_How could it have been that long?_

He heard Lee say goodbye and knew Cottle had won the battle...

Tired of thinking and forgetting the urgency that had brought him to consciousness, he relaxed. He could take care of things later.

Later...

The thought jolted him. How would he approach living a life he had thought was over and now wasn't?

End   
Chapter 18 


	19. Bridge

Christmas is coming! Many thanks for the gift of your comments - they're appreciated.

I wanted to get this posted before things get too crazy. It may be a while before I post again, but I promise I'm plugging away at things. Cross your fingers for me.

Disclaimer: I claim no dis to BSG or any of its creators.**  
**

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx- **

**Chapter 19**

**Bridge **

Laura watched from across the room as Cottle poked and prodded his newly awakened patient. He asked Bill muted questions she didn't fully hear; Bill quietly rumbled indecipherable answers. Then the tenor of their words changed. Catching a word here and there, she realised that Cottle was bringing the Admiral up to speed not only on his personal state of health but on the fleet's as well.

Her lips thinned. The doctor was taking more upon himself than necessary. She had expected to be the one to fill Bill in on what was happening. She'd wanted that excuse; had wanted that connection. And was he really even in good enough health to have the worry of what was presently happening put on him?

She sighed, recognising that last thought for what it was. Bill was awake. He was all right. He had to be - hell, he'd woken up trying to solve their problems, hadn't he?

She watched the two men and felt overwhelmed. This wasn't how she'd imagined him waking. This wasn't how she'd imagined things would be. _He_ wasn't how she'd imagined. She fought against a sense of anticlimax, of _what now? _

He had barely acknowledged her presence. She didn't know her footing; didn't know where she stood or how they would be.

Somewhere on the edge of her consciousness, she felt lost. Separated. Frightened.

Alone.

They were feelings she was unaccustomed to, and they made her feel something else she didn't like: uncomfortable.

-xxx-

Focussed on the Admiral, Cottle was not at first aware of the President's silence. When it did appear on his radar, he ignored it. He knew that Bill being back would take some adjustment on Roslin's part. She and Adama would have lots of time to sort things out between them, though. Right now, he needed to make sure that the Bill who had just woken up had all the faculties of the Bill who had gone into a comma.

To his relief, Bill answered all his questions correctly, at times even adding a sprinkling of his own brand of spare humour. It had felt good to relax into that; he'd missed it.

Not trusting Roslin to tell him everything, he'd also taken time to bring Adama up to speed on the bacterial infection and its effect on the fleet. He'd failed to tell Bill what he knew once and would never forget the look of betrayal on Adama's face when they'd first talked after the revelation that Hera was alive - or the look of disappointed acceptance that he, too, had failed him. He darted a look at Roslin. Why he'd listened to her, he'd never know. Why he'd followed her orders and kept quiet about what he'd done was an even bigger mystery.

Never again.

And all the more reason, he figured, to believe that in the long run she was bad for Bill. Very, very bad...

Finishing up, he stepped back and looked at his patient. There was no real explanation for him being conscious, any more than there was a reason he was alive and basically healed of wounds that ought to have killed him. Putting his stethoscope back into his pocket, Cottle frowned and grudgingly said, "You appear to be fine; I guess you'll live."

"Don't look so broken up about it," Bill said in a dry tone. Wincing again, he asked, "Why am I so sore here?" he asked, touching a spot on his side.

Cottle grunted. Go figure: the man had been shot twice, had his insides messed around like crazy, and the only thing that bothered him was something that had happened to him before that. "It should hurt a hell of a lot more in a lot of other places. But there," he said, gesturing with his hand, "is where you've managed to crack a bone. Nothing too serious, just a pain to live with. You did it to yourself a while before you got shot, though. You must have noticed it when it happened - it would have hurt a lot more then. It had already started to heal by the time I got you here."

Bill frowned. Again an effort to remember was rewarded. His face cleared. "I had to dodge some gunfire when I first found Kara and Lee. I fell pretty hard."

"You're too old to fall pretty hard. Next time fall softer," Cottle admonished. "Don't worry, though, it'll heal fine." Pulling out his timepiece, he continued, "I'm going to let your son and Colonel Tigh back in for a few minutes. They were pretty serious about wanting to finish their conversation with you." He paused, then said, "Lee was shot, too, Bill. In the arm. The bullet was a through and through, so he's healing just fine. He gave up the sling a few days ago and is just in a light bandage now."

Adama frowned. He hadn't noticed anything. Then again, Cottle hadn't allowed him much time to. Trying to think, he finally said, "I don't remember him getting shot."

"You wouldn't. It happened after you and the President were shot. After Lee and Kara found you, the cylons found them."

Laura had sat on her bed and listened to the two men talk without speaking. Fighting her disappointment that she would have no time alone with Bill before Lee and Saul were allowed back in, she finally joined into the conversation. "He says it doesn't bother him at all now. The bandage is small enough you don't even see it under his uniform."

Bill looked across the room at her, then turned back towards Cottle.

Cottle looked at him. "He's fine. Honest."

Bill nodded. "I'd like to see them now. We need to get this mess sorted out."

Cottle walked to the door. Opening it, he found both Tigh and Lee leaning up against the opposite wall. Motioning them in, he gave orders about keeping it brief and not overtaxing the patient, then grudgingly fell into a watchful silence.

As Lee walked across to the bed, father and son shared a long look of relief.

"So, you got a plan?" Lee asked, his eyes warm.

He knew his father; knew he'd have worked something out.

"Yeah," Bill said. He didn't know how he knew what he knew about the present situation, but the information was there and he had used it. His rough, deep voice quietly reassuring, he said, "I think so. Valerant's a problem. He's a loose canon, and we need to get to him. Jason DeCourt is the best man to help us do that."

Tigh's brows furrowed. Out in the hallway, he'd remembered that the man Bill was talking about was someone who had been assigned to Bill's personal security detail for the past two years or so. Why the Admiral thought DeCourt should talk to Valerant, however, he'd been unable to figure out.

"Why should Valerant listen to DeCourt when he wouldn't frakking listen to the Vice President of the Twelve Colonies?" he asked grumpily.

"Trust," Adama promptly replied. "When there's trust, it's easier to stay calm and listen; it's easier to see sense, and it also makes it easier to do the right thing, even if it's not what you want to do."

"And why would Valerant trust DeCourt?" Tigh asked.

Adama cleared his throat. "It's a very small world now. They're family. Brothers-in-law, actually, and from what I remember, they get along well."

"How the frak do you know that?"

Bill winced as he tried to adjust himself in the bed. He'd always worked on the premise that it was important to know something about the lives of the people he commanded. That was why he'd known about DeCourt's sister's wedding. He'd heard of the man she was marrying, because Richard Valerant was a pilot. He knew _that_ because after the destruction of Caprica he had quickly made it his business to get profiles of everyone in the civilian fleet who could fly. Information like that was important to have; you never knew when you might need it.

Not wanting to go into detail, Bill simply answered, "I hear things."

Tigh grunted. "Yeah, well, Valerant's a malcontent."

"Valerant's a man who feels he has legitimate concerns. He's a damned good pilot. He's also a decent man. That's probably why people are listening to him. Right now, he doesn't know who to believe or who to trust." He slid a quick look towards Roslin, then continued, "The President is right: people are panicked, and panicked people do stupid things. They won't stop to look at what they're doing until they've stopped being afraid, and they won't stop being afraid until someone they trust tells them something they can believe. He'll trust what DeCourt tells him," Bill insisted.

Lee cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Only if DeCourt believes what he's saying. What are we going to tell him?"

He turned steady blue eyes towards his son. "We're going to tell him the truth: that we need supplies to get through, regardless of how hard hit a ship is by the infection. We're going to tell him we'll soon have a vaccine against the bacteria and that the civilian pilots doing supply runs will be the first to receive it. We're also going to tell him that the military will be helping with supply runs until the crisis is over, and that we want him to work out where the military can best help."

Tigh and Lee shared a surprised glance.

"How will we manage the manpower?" Lee asked.

"We just will," Adama said confidently. "I understand the Colonel's concerns about manpower, but you and Kara can work out the schedules. I'm not saying all our pilots, I'm saying a couple a day for a shift or so. We're a lot more used to working overtime than the civilians are."

"And you're going to let Valerant tell us what to do?" Tigh asked in a slightly belligerent tone.

"I'm going to let him tell us where we can help the most," Bill corrected. Remembering his days serving on a merchant fleet civilian freighter, he said, "We're not expert in doing ship-to-ship supply runs, Saul; he is. There's no loss of face in acknowledging that." He also knew that psychologically speaking, he'd get a lot more mileage out of the civilians if they felt that they were in control.

Thinking his friend was putting an awful lot of trust in a man he'd never met, Tigh said a doubtful, "Aye, aye, sir," and regarded the President carefully to gauge her reaction. Though she had not participated in the conversation, she had moved over to stand with them and had been following their words closely. When she made no move to demur, he said, "I'll go find DeCourt, then."

"I want to talk to him myself," Bill said. "He-" he paused, trying to remember what he had been about to say. His face went blank as he realised he had no idea.

Cottle had been watching Bill closely. He'd seen the expected burst of energy and mental acuity, and recognised the signs indicating it was about to plummet. Knowing it was time to step in, he spoke. "Not for another hour, you won't," he ordered. "You've been in a coma and you still don't fully have your memory back. I need to run some tests, and you need to rest a bit."

Adama sighed. "You don't need to run anything. It's okay. I'm awake. I feel fine."

Cottle snorted and stepped closer. "Bully for you. Until you've got a medical degree to back up that 'feeling' of yours, I'll make the assessments on your condition, thank you very much."

When Bill closed his eyes without a fight, Cottle patted himself on the back.

Turning to the other two men, he pointedly looked at the door. "Don't you two have a ship to fly?"

Lee and Tigh left without argument. Cottle looked over at Roslin. She'd barely said a word since Bill had regained consciousness.

_That wasn't like her at all._

His eyes narrowed. "You all right?" he asked her gruffly.

She shook her head, but said, "I'm fine." She had wanted more than once to say something during the conversation - hadn't liked, in fact, the feeling of being forgotten once Bill got started. She wasn't sure that his plan would work; wasn't sure that Bill's faith in reasoning and trust was warranted.

She had also, however, remembered Sharon's words, and refrained from voicing her reservations.

"_I trust him," the cylon had said. "...Maybe you should stop questioning and let yourself trust him, too..."_

"Then get into bed," Cottle admonished her. "You're still not one hundred per cent, and I don't want you bothering the Admiral."

Her back stiffened, but she moved towards her bed wordlessly.

She lifted the sheet to get in, then turned. "I believe you were just leaving, doctor?"

He nodded slightly. "You believe correctly, ma'am. Meyes will be in shortly to take your vitals." Turning to Bill, he said, "Dana Meyes is the medic I've had taking care of you. She'll unhook you from some of the stuff we've got tying you down. Then she'll see about you having a try at standing up. I'd like you to make it to the bathroom and back. The walk will do you good."

Bill grunted. So would losing the catheter.

Glancing between Roslin and Adama, Cottle said, "I'll see you both in about an hour." He shot a look at Roslin and added, "Behave while I'm gone."

Laura glared at him and slid under the sheets.

Once Cottle had finally left, she sighed in relief. Settling against her pillows, she looked at Bill, glad for these few moments alone...and was disappointed to see that his eyes were closed.

-xxx-

Even with his eyes closed, he knew she was there. He could feel her presence in the room and both wanted her gone and wanted her closer. His brow furrowed as his brain synapses kicked in, coughing up another random memory... _Kobol's sun warming his back as she moved beneath him, her skin soft against his, her hair spread against the ground..._

He opened his eyes and looked across the room at her. With eyes as green as they had been that day, she stared back at him.

Neither knew what to do with what they saw.

End  
Chapter 19


	20. Turning

The holidays are over and here I am, back again. Sorry for the delay, but with no computer for the past week...I'm sure you can feel my pain...

Thanks to everyone who is still reading. (I'm impressed and made happy by your perseverance!) To those of you who comment anonymously, thank you. I can't reply, but I do appreciate your dropping a note to let me know you're reading.

For a number of reasons, I'm feeling as though I'm spinning my wheels a bit in this chapter, so forgive me that. Hopefully, things will speed up a bit in the next couple of chapters. The end _has_ to be getting near..**  
**

* * *

**  
Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 20**

**Turning**

Now alone, Bill and Laura sat in their respective Life Station beds and stared at one another wordlessly.

Trying to decipher what she saw in his expression and failing, Laura shifted her eyes. Her hands moved restlessly. "Well," she finally said. The soft susurration balanced awkwardly in the air between them, then slowly faded into silence.

She tried again.

"You had me - us - worried, Bill. It's good to have you back." The words sounded stilted. She _felt_ stilted. At a loss for anything more to say, she waited for his response.

Still not totally orientated, he focussed on the immediate: "What are you doing here?" His voice was gruff, and whether or not he intended to hurt her with its tone, he did.

Her response to that hurt was immediate. With more than a hint of resentment, she asked, "Cottle didn't tell you during your little catchup session?"

"_You_ didn't come up as a topic of conversation," he fired back.

His words were a lie. In his need to know, he'd willingly risked revealing far too much by asking after her. Cottle, with an irritatingly perceptive gleam in his eye, had explained that the PResident had been shot at the same time as he, then quickly assured him that she was doing well - but that _she_ was quite concerned about _him_. Distrusting the descrepancy between the knowing smirk on the doctor's face and the matter-of-fact tone he affected when responding, Bill had stopped all further questioning, which was why he now had no idea why, if she was as healthy as Jack claimed, she was still in Life Station - or why she was in the same room as he.

"I'm here because this is where I was put," she told him in a short tone. "There are places I'd rather be, believe me."

The joy of seeing him awake was slipping like sand through her fingers, leaving only the grit of their failed relationship in her palms. Something twisted inside her, and her stomach churned. This wasn't how it was supposed to be - wasn't how she wanted it to be.

Adama felt the tension in the air between them, knew it had to do with him and his reaction to her and found he had no inclination to do anything about it. With a sigh, he settled his head further into his pillow. Closing his eyes, he said wearily, "I'm too tired for this. Let's not talk. We do better when we don't."

He was right. Her heart was hurting and her brain was tired and she truly didn't feel up to talking herself. But gods, she felt wounded by his continued remoteness, and hated that she wanted from him what she couldn't have. He was alive and here, and she wanted to listen to his voice, wanted him to look at her the way he had used to; wanted the strength she drew from knowing she had his support.

But the support was gone.

She felt its absence and her need for it so strongly it made her weak.

_Weak_...Grimacing, she moved uncomfortably. The idea that someone might need another to make them stronger as an individual seemed wrong to her. It was a contradiction in terms; you were either strong or not. Emotional attachments led to weakness, not strength. Independence, strength of purpose, a focus on one's goals and ultimately, no ties that bound...those things made for a good, decisive leader and she'd always believed that they made for good relationships, too.

Bill Adama had taught her differently on both levels. Leadership necessitated all of the things she had listed, perhaps, but he somehow forged connections with people that strengthened both himself and those he led.

Personal relationships, she had learned, took more risks...

Love required still more...

_Love._ With the silence stretching taut and troubled between them, love was a word she would rather not consider. Back on Kobol, when she had finally spoken the word aloud, she'd watched Bill reject it and walk away. Perhaps he had been right to. She had certainly tried to set it aside herself. Where people and emotions were concerned, she liked to think of herself as a pragmatist. But somewhere, somehow, something had changed, and love had followed her here anyway...

Hating her weakness, she clenched her eyes shut as a wave of nausea washed through her. What in gods' names had happened to her? Trying to summon up anger, she questioned the gods and their daring to throw this burden her way.

When the required anger failed to take root, she looked over at Bill. Feeling lost, she said his name.

-xxx-

Hearing her voice, Bill steeled himself. He recognised that tone - the one that said she felt needy.

Her feeling needy generally resulted in strategised manipulation.

He wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Opening his eyes, he looked at her, his expression carefully guarded. He was tired, his defences dangerously weakened. He could remember Kobol's rain pouring down on them; could remember her weight upon him and the way her fingers had grasped his desperately as cold darkness had overtaken them.

He could remember the burning heat of sorrow that had pierced him when he realised that she was gone and that he loved her.

But she was alive. And so was he. He was glad for the former, uncertain how he felt about the latter, and knew himself unprepared to deal with her presence.

You can't rewrite the past, unsay spoken words, or undo past deeds.

A wave of dispair coursed through him. "Laura," he rasped, "not now. Nothing you say is going to change anything."

He saw a look he couldn't interpret flit across her face, then watched as she opened her mouth to respond. Before she could speak, however, her attention abruptly shifted to the door. She summoned a smile. It faltered at first, then gained in strength as she assumed her presidential mask.

"Dana," she said to the petite, dark-haired woman who entered the room. "Doctor Cottle said you'd be coming soon."

The woman Laura had addressed so familiarly nodded and returned her smile easily. "Ma'am," she said. Bill noted the warmth in that one word, and felt himself relax. As though conscious of his scrutiny, the newcomer turned her gaze towards him. "Admiral! It's nice to see you with your eyes open! I'm Dana Meyes. I've been your day medic since you arrived."

Bill regarded her with smoky blue eyes. There was something oddly familiar about her - her voice or manner, perhaps - but his memory failed him. Certain they had never been introduced, he nodded, said, "Pleased to meet you," and waited to discover what she had in store for him.

Meyes quickly rewarded his patience.

"I'm going to get you up for a short walk," she told him brightly. "Doctor Cottle's determined to have you out of bed as soon as possible. After that," she continued, "he wants both you and the President to rest for a while." Reaching up, she grasped the curtain that hung to one side and smiled at Roslin. "We won't be long," she promised before pulling the curtain around the Admiral's bed. When privacy was ensured, she turned to him and said, "Now to get rid of these tubes and wires..."

Sparing a thought to wonder how this woman's cheerful persona fit next to Cottle's decidedly acerbic one, Adama grunted and gave himself up to her efficient ministrations.

-xxx-

"Don't," Bill ordered quietly.

In the process of reaching up to open the curtain, Dana lowered her arm and looked at him.

"I want to be on my feet first."

Her eyes widened, then she nodded in understanding. Moving towards him, she said, "Let's get you sitting up with your feet on the floor."

He managed that position without much difficulty, but bit back a groan when he felt his insides heave into position. They felt heavier, somehow, and ached dully. Placing a hand on his bandage-covered stomach, he grimaced.

"It'll take a while for your body to adjust," she told him. "You had a lot of internal damage, but it's healed beautifully. We moved you regularly, but still - it's going to take a while for you to get used to gravity weighing on your insides when you're upright."

He nodded. Taking a deep breath, he moved to stand.

And found himself suddenly leaning heavily on the small woman. He fought a wave of vertigo. "Sorry," he murmured.

She chuckled. "No problem. You're taking things too quickly. Here," she told him softly, "straighten slowly. Remember to breathe." She helped him stand erect, and then stood back and looked at him approvingly.

He looked down at himself. The hospital sleeping pants were decent, but walking around bare-chested made him feel uncomfortable.

Recognising his look of discomfort and realising its cause, she apologised. "It was easier to check on your sutures without the bother of a dressing gown. I expect you'll be wanting more to wear, now, though. I'm sorry. I should have brought something." She then listed the items available: "Would you like undershirts, a hospital gown, or a robe?"

Placing a hand over the bandages that covered most of the new set of red suture marks on his torso, he went for what would make him feel most comfortable.

"Undershirts."

"Then undershirts it will be. I'll order some up for you as soon as we have you back from the head," she promised. Looking at him with warm, dark eyes, she reached for the curtain again and asked, "Ready?"

When he nodded, she pulled the curtain back.

-xxx-

After arranging to meet with Lee in Life Station, Saul Tigh hung up the phone receiver and walked across the floor of CIC towards the exit. It was time to inform Bill of the latest developments. Considering the crisis that was building, having his friend and commanding officer awake and on the mend was a tremendous relief.

It would be even more of a relief if the Bill he knew had returned to replace the cold, remote man who had left _Galactica_ with no intention of returning.

He sighed. He was no closer now to truly understanding what had happened to his friend than he had been months ago, but he held hope that perhaps this latest near-death experience would somehow reset his personality to its original default settings. He wanted his old friend back.

Lee, whose footsteps were also taking him to Life Station, wondered along similar lines. His father had woken up giving orders, which he took to be a good sign. Unfortunately, he'd been so glad he'd regained consciousness - and so busy taking in what he was saying - that he hadn't fully registered the demeanour of the man himself.

Who was lying in Life Station? Which version of his father and commanding officer? He'd given up trying to figure out what the frak had happened to make his father's personality alter so much. Now, the reasons for him turning so cold and remote seemed unimportant. He just wanted his father back.

Kara, flying CAP, led her team effortlessly and allowed part of her mind to drift to the happy thought of the Old Man being awake. Lee had told her as soon as he'd been able that his father was conscious and already giving orders. She smiled, unable to tamp down the sense of elation she felt. The question of who had awakened - the Adama she knew, or the cold, remote replacement she'd discovered upon her return after New Caprica - was the next issue to be dealt with. Shifting her thoughts in order to berate a sloppy turn by one of the nuggets, she crossed her fingers. On their last night on Kobol, she'd caught a reassuring glimpse of the old Adama. Hopefully, it had taken root during his stay in Life Station...

_It'll all be okay_, she thought. Lee hadn't said anything derogatory or biting about the Old Man, so perhaps they were all back to normal now. If they weren't, she'd have that talk with the Admiral she's promised herself before she and Lee had left for Kobol.

-xxx-

After pulling on the blessedly familiar undershirts Meyes had produced for him, Adama gratefully crawled back into bed. The medic settled him to her satisfaction and provided him with water to drink. After reminding both occupants of the room to get some rest, she lowered the lighting and left. Closing his eyes, Bill listened to the sound of Laura's voice talking on her bedside phone - at first to Tory, and then, so far as he could tell, to assorted members of the Quorum. Slowly, with her voice a gentle hum in the background, he relaxed into a sound sleep.

It felt as though he had barely closed his eyes, however, when the sound of Lee barging into the room awakened him. His mind slowly returning to alert status, he watched his son draw to a halt beside his bed. He looked tired and very frustrated.

After giving a quick nod towards the President, Lee turned to his father. "We can't find DeCourt," he announced. "He was supposed to be off rotation for two days leave, but he didn't report back for duty as scheduled yesterday."

Adama frowned. "That's not like him. Perhaps he's sick?"

"He's not in his quarters, and his name isn't on any of the infirmary rosters."

"Where did he go on his leave?"

"We were told he went to see a friend on the _Mythic Folly_."

"But you didn't find him there," his father guessed.

Lee shook his head. "His friend says he stopped by two days ago for a quick hello, then left to visit some woman he's been seeing. His friend couldn't remember the girl's name or what ship he was headed for, though. We're trying to track his movements, but it's not easy," he said. "With this infection knocking so many off their feet, it's hard to find people who were working yesterday, let alone two or three days ago, and record keeping at this point in time isn't what it could be."

He paused and the look of worry on his face deepened. If nothing else, his investigation had shown him just how severely the civilian population had been affected by so many being ill. "Dad," he said in a low tone, "things are getting really bad out there. I'm not sure how patient the pilots of the shuttles from the _Aurora_ are going to be if we have to delay their docking much longer. With the overcrowding, conditions must be brutal. Hell, from what I can tell, conditions on all the civilian ships are bad."

Adama looked at his son. He saw the concern, saw the tiredness...and knew that there was something else he needed to report.

"There's more."

Unsurprised by his father's perceptiveness, Lee nodded. "Yeah," he said reluctantly, "and it's not good." Finally turning to include the President in his conversation, he said, "Three more ships - the _Zephyr, _the_ Adriatic, _and the _Faru Sadin_ - have offloaded their sick - at gun point in some cases, if the rumours are true - into shuttles. They're all reported to be headed here. We've ordered them back, but I don't think they're going to listen. They're desperate, and need a place where they'll be looked after. We're their only hope." He hesitated, then added, "There's also a rumour floating around that we've developed an antibiotic that we're not sharing with the civilian fleet. Some people believe it. I expect that's going to make them even more determined to come here."

Involuntarily, Laura and Bill shared a concerned glance. Rumours and distrust - not a good combination when people were already frightened.

"The _Adriatic_ has weaponry," Bill observed in a heavy voice.

Silence hung in the air as they contemplated how quickly things could escalate when fire power was involved.

The President reached for her robe. Drawing it to her, she rose and put it on. Moving closer, she said briskly, "We could tell them shipments are being resumed, just to get them back where they belong. It'll buy us some time, at least."

"If it works, I'm all for it! We're going to need all the time we can get."

The three of them turned towards the sound of Tigh's voice and watched as he entered the room. It had been a long day, and he was also looking haggard and in need of rest.

"Without DeCourt to talk to Valerant, we're in trouble," the Colonel said. Supporting Lee's opinion, he continued, "and those shuttles can't wait forever. Their passengers have been on board for hours now, and they'll need food and water...and space. They've gotta be pretty crowded out there."

"If we can't find DeCourt to talk to Valerant, why don't we ask Valerant to come here to speak with us?" Lee suggested.

"He wouldn't come. He'd see the invitation as a military trick to throw him in the brig," Laura quickly interjected.

Bill looked at her and nodded. "The President's right. Asking would just waste valuable time that we don't have, and in regards to lying in order to get them to turn back: short term, it might work, but that's not the sort of action that'll breed trust in the future. We're going to have to live with each other for a long time. Trust is going to be important."

He sighed inwardly. Their problems had grown immeasurably: they needed to deal with the immediate issue of the _Aurora_ shuttles, the rumour that the military had an antibiotic that wasn't being shared, the latest influx of refugee ships headed _Galactica's_ way_, and _the potential knee-jerk misuse of the _Adriatic's_ weaponry.

And still manage the issue of the stopped shipment runs that had started the whole mess in the first place.

His brows drew together as he thought his way through the situation. First thing would be to take care of the civilians, in order to-

Laura's voice broke into his thoughts. "Perhaps we could deal with the people problem first," she suggested. "Colonel Tigh, if the Admiral approves, finding a way to deliver supplies to the shuttles would be very helpful."

Bill nodded. "That's a good idea," he said, easily catching her train of thought because it ran on the same tracks as his. "Making the people on the shuttles as comfortable as possible will take away some of their sense of urgency, help them think before they act." He paused, then said to Roslin, "You - or someone from your office - should make an announcement concerning the rumoured antibiotic. It might help allay some of the disquiet out in the fleet." Turning to Tigh, he said, "I had better speak directly to the _Adriatic's _captain. We've got to make sure he knows what's happening and that he doesn't get trigger happy if a crisis arises."

Colonel Tigh frowned. "Why worry about the _Adriatic_? She's got weaponry, but it would barely put a dent in our hull," he commented.

"It may not be us he shoots at," Adama explained patiently. "What if the shuttles agree to turn back and he decides to take a pot shot at them to deter them from doing so? One Colonial vessel firing upon another with the military standing by and watching would send a message we don't want sent."

Laura nodded. "We need to present a united, concerned front and we need to diffuse some of the panic people are feeling," she said. "Having ships firing at shuttles filled with people wouldn't help us do either of those things."

The entire group looked up when the sound of someone else entering the room disturbed their conversation.

Cottle glared at the two uniformed men standing beside Adama's bed. "What are you two doing in here again?" he grumbled. Without waiting for an answer, he then turned to his two patients. His eyes travelling from one to the other, he said, "Meyes said you two were resting as ordered. This doesn't look like resting to me." Roslin was standing beside Bill, her hand on his bed's headboard.

"You said an hour, Doctor. It's been almost two," Lee said quickly.

"I don't care what I said. You didn't ask to be here. I don't like people traipsing around Life Station like they own it without me knowing about it."

Adama looked at him. His voice grave, he said, "We've got a real problem on our hands, Jack."

Cottle stilled. Holding his commanding officer's gaze, he paused, then nodded slowly. His demeanour relaxed into a different kind of serious, and his voice matched Adama's in tone when he said quietly, "Doesn't sound so good. Anything I can do?"

"How's the antibiotic thing coming along?" Adama enquired.

"They injected doses of it into the trial patients three hours ago," Jack told him. "We're waiting."

Bill nodded. It was good news, but not good enough. "If you could arrange to have someone available to address the press concerning your progress, it would be helpful, and..."

While he spoke to Cottle, Laura's phone rang and she walked across the floor to answer it. After listening intently, she hung up and faced the others.

"One of the shuttles from the _Aurora_ has announced they have two dead aboard and that they intend to land on _Galactica_ immediately."

"Well. That puts the cat right in the pigeon coop," Tigh murmured. Turning to Adama, he said, "We can't let them land, so what do we do?"

End  
Chapter 20


	21. Response

Now that life's back to normal, I'll be trying to post more regularly and get this thing finished! Thanks for the reviews from those still reading, and happy Monday!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything this week I didn't own last.

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 21**

**Response **

_...so what do we do?_

Tigh's question hung in the air.

"We let them land," Adama said.

The Colonel frowned at him. "I just said we can't do that. We have no place to put them and it'll be seen as an open invitation to the rest."

Adama ignored the protest and looked at Cottle. "Sorry," he apologised. His expression indicating he understood how much he was asking of his CMO, he continued, "We have to do this, Jack. You're going to have to work a miracle of some sort. Tell me what you need, and if we've got it, it's yours."

Jack nodded. Revealing none of the trepidation he was feeling, he cleared his throat. As his mind worked out possibilities for an impossible situation, he said gruffly, "If it's only a miracle you're looking for, I can probably find a stray one lying around here somewhere."

Nodding his appreciation, Adama then turned towards the Colonel. "Let them land, Saul. It's the only thing we can do. Think about it."

"They could be ordered back to the _Aurora_," Laura suggested pointedly. Now almost convinced that this was turning into a situation where the few had to be sacrificed for the many, she continued, "We cannot allow them to land here. The _Galactica _is our only defence against the cylons. Letting a concentrated group of the sickest people in the fleet on board could seriously endanger the health of your own people - which would make us even more vulnerable if the cylons appear."

"We can't order them back.The _Aurora_ made its refusal to accept them loud and clear," Bill reminded her. "If the military tries to _force_ the _Aurora _to take them back, it'll destroy whatever workable relations we've managed to create between the military and the civilian population. We can't do that. Let them board," he insisted. "Give clearance to the shuttle with the two dead only, and put the passengers on it in quarantine when they disembark. Ask the other shuttles to wait. Let the rest of the civilian fleet know it will take time for us to organise our resources so that we can help."

Tigh looked at Bill askance. This was a whole new Adama. Since when did Roslin give the military priority and Bill the civilians? "What's going to make the other shuttles agree to wait?" he asked. "Once they see the first one dance its way onboard, nothing short of being shot at is going to stop them from following."

"Perhaps we could let the shuttles land, but keep everyone confined to them," Roslin suggested.

"And when people attempt to leave the shuttles - which we all know will happen - how do you propose we stop them? Do you really want my people pointing guns at them?" Bill asked.

Roslin opened her mouth to reply, then found she had nothing as a rebuttal. He was right; if he was going to insist on allowing them on board, it was a bad idea to try to keep them on the shuttles - and any force used against the sick and dying would result in disaster. She sat back, still feeling that the shuttles should be kept off the ship, but knowing that this was a military decision that, for once, would please the general population.

There was no way she could object to it.

Bill seemed to understand her conflicted feelings. "We'll pay a price no matter what we do, Madame President, but the cost of not allowing them to board would be too high," he said quietly. Pausing a moment, he then turned to Tigh and reviewed what needed to be done: "Bring the shuttle on board. Tell the other shuttle pilots we'll make space available if necessary, but that we need time. Get some supplies to them so that they know we're taking care of them. Then contact Valerant. Since we can't find DeCourt, I want to see him personally." He looked at Cottle. "Any _real_ reason I can't go speak with him myself?"

Cottle considered his answer briefly, then asked, "Go speak with as in 'leave Life Station and travel to another ship in order to talk'?"

When the Admiral nodded, the doctor bit back an immediate refusal and paused to think. He then shook his head. "Sorry. There are lots of reasons I can't let you go. At least not straight away." Knowing if he pushed too far, Bill would just get up and leave anyway, he shot for the best he thought he could get: "Can you wait twelve hours?" he asked. "You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was imperative. I'm not comfortable with this sudden miraculous recovery of yours. Something's not right about it, and I'm concerned enough I've told the lab to run the blood tests in spite of it taking time away from the antibiotic research. I don't want you away from medical facilities; for all I know you could relapse, or seizure, or gods knows what at any minute."

"Suddenly I'm not feeling so well," Adama remarked dryly. "Where's that famed Cottle optimism?"

"I'm being damned optimistic," Cottle shot back. "I'm being so damned frakking opimisitic my teeth hurt! I shouldn't let you out of my sight for another forty-eight hours, minimum! You're back and you're needed, and you won't do anyone any good if you end up dead or damaged somewhere out in the fleet because I let you do something you shouldn't too soon."

"I feel fine," he insisted.

"I know you do, but remember why you hired me. I can't let you go."

Adama paused a moment, then asked, "You willing to negotiate the twelve hours?"

"No."

The answer was firm and unequivocal. The two men regarded one another silently.

The others waited for Adama's response. They all knew that he'd do whatever he chose and that once his mind was made up it would be pointless to try to change it. They also knew, however, that his long-term survival was critical. Given his recent actions on Kobol, however, they weren't certain he cared any more.

Laura, realising she was holding her breath, tried to relax the hold she had on the headboard. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when Bill moved.

Exhaling softly, he nodded. There were reasons he'd hired this man as his CMO and those reasons hadn't changed over time. He also had to admit to how much it had taken out of him earlier just to get to the head and back. Perhaps he did need more time, especially if Valerant proved to be more obstreperous to deal with than he hoped.

"Twelve hours. That's it. Then I'm out of here," he agreed reluctantly.

Cottle looked at him. Made uneasy by Bill's easy capitulation, he wondered if he should have asked for more time.

Adama, however, didn't give him the opportunity to voice second thoughts. His decision made, he turned to Tigh and Lee. Beginning to feel tired, he said, "If I'm going to be here another twelve hours, let people know what we plan. Tell Valerant I'd like to see him first thing tomorrow morning, if he's willing. People are going to have to be patient for a while longer."

Feeling confident that his father had enough good will amongst the fleet to ask for that amount of time, Lee stepped forward. "Twelve hours isn't too much to ask for, Dad," he said reassuringly. "They'll agree to wait."

Suddenly weary, Adama closed his eyes. "Do what you can." His voice sounded low and gravelly when he slowly reopened his eyes and added, "Tell them the first shuttle landing is a sign of good faith. Get help to the other shuttles, and get me the captain of the _Adriatic_ on the line asap."

Seeing Bill's exhaustion, Laura shot a concerned glance towards Cottle and then leaned forward slightly to protest his need to speak to the _Adriatic's_ captain. Someone else could frakking do that. Bill gave her a look, however, that told her he knew what she was going to say and that she had better not. Swallowing her suggestion, she straightened.

Aware of some of the silent communication that had just taken place between his father and the President, Lee stepped forward. "Why don't I speak to the _Adriatic's _captain, Dad? If I don't feel comfortable about his intentions, I'll get a phone line in here for you to speak with him yourself."

Adama looked at his son, then nodded. It was time to trust. "That would be fine. Thank you."

"My office will put out a press release about the antibiotic, but I think it should be done jointly with Doctor Cottle," Laura said. "And Doctor, if you could provide a couple of researchers to be interviewed and report on the progress made, I'd appreciate it. I'm sure most people will listen. The ones who don't are going to be a problem no matter what we do or say."

Cottle nodded, then inhaled deeply. Looking at Adama with concern, he exhaled noisily and looked around at the small group. "Okay," he said gruffly, "party's over. Everyone's got a job to do, so let's go do it. You," he said, looking down at the Admiral sternly, "are to get more shut eye." Turning to the President, he admonished, "And tell that aide of yours to haul ass and organise the press conference for you. It's not as though you couldn't use some rest as well." His gaze going from one patient to the other, he growled, "I'd feel a whole hell of a lot better if you two would start acting like you'd been shot and almost died."

While the doctor continued to complain, Lee and Saul made their way towards the door, thankful in more ways than one that they could leave.

-xxx-

Striding down corridors lit more dimly in a silent signal that ship's night was approaching, Kara sighed. "Your father isn't going to be happy about this," she said unnecessarily.

"Tell me about it," Lee sighed. "Thank the gods he doesn't seem quite as cold towards her as he was."

"He's back to normal?" she asked hopefully.

He shook his head and allowed her to precede him through a hatchway on their way to Life Station. "I wouldn't go that far," he told her. "It's kind of hard to tell, because we're operating under a crisis situation, but I think maybe he's eased up a little, at least."

"Even with the President?"

"Yeah, I think so. He looks at her without scowling, anyway, and I think they were almost in agreement a few times this morning. The meeting this afternoon was a bit different, but at least they weren't opening hating each other."

She smiled in relief. "Baby steps, eh? We may be getting the Old Man back!"

"I wouldn't hold my breath. We'll see when he reacts to _this_ piece of news."

Kara's smile faded.

After a moment's shared silence, she said, "Valerant does has a point. I'd be making the same demand, I think."

Lee grunted. "Think that all you like, but don't you dare say it in front of my father. We've got enough to deal with. The last thing we need is him arguing with you, too."

Drawing to a stop at the Life Station entrance, he looked around for the CMO. "We need to check in with Cottle, first," he explained. "He's decided he wants to know who's going in and out of Dad's room."

Kara's grin returned. "Once everyone knows your father's regained consciousness, there'll be no stopping people from seeing him. Cottle loves playing control freak, though. "

The control freak in question turned a corner and walked towards them.

His eyes squinting against the smoke rising from the burning end of a cigarette he held loosely between his lips, Cottle asked, "What are you two doing here?"

"Nice to see you, too, doc," Kara said.

He gave her a look. "That goes without saying," he harrumphed. Looking at Lee, he said, "I'm surprised to see you back tonight. I thought everything was arranged - and I'm sure I told everyone that I wanted the Admiral to rest until tomorrow."

"Valerant's thrown a spanner into the works," Lee told him. "I need to talk it over with Dad and the President."

Nodding, the doctor turned to Kara. "And what are _you_ here for?"

"Moral support."

Cottle's eyebrows rose and his glance travelled between the two of them. "That bad, eh?"

"Could be," Kara said.

"Or could be you just need to see with your own two little eyes that the Old Man's okay. You haven't seen him since he regained consciousness this morning, have you?" Cottle observed.

She shrugged. There was that, too. Frak the old bastard for pointing it out, though.

"You're going to let me see him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm going to let you in. Better that than trying to catch you sneaking by me when I'm busy."

She grinned, her disgruntlement over Cottle's pointing out her concern for Adama forgotten. "You're wise beyond your years, sir. Who'd have thought there was even that much smart out there?"

He scowled. "Everyone's a comic. Now, get going, and don't make it too long, or I'll be in to kick your asses out personally."

Lee hesitated. He'd need Cottle's medical okay for this, so he said, "You should probably come with us."

Looking at them closely, Cottle inhaled on his cigarette, then let smoke billow out around his next words.

"You've got my attention."

"How about we go in and I say it just once?" Lee asked him.

Cottle nodded and ashes tumbled from the glowing end of his cigarette. Brushing them casually off his chest with one hand, he waved his other arm, indicating they should proceed.

End  
Chapter 21


	22. Relent

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 22**

**Relent**

Entering the room, Kara stepped ahead of Cottle and Lee and went straight to Adama's bedside. Looking down at him, she felt her eyes moisten. Not daring to speak, she stood and grinned at him wordlessly.

Adama looked up at her, held her gaze and gave her the first, full-hearted smile he'd made in a long, long time.

Still unable to speak, she hesitantly put her hand next to his where it lay on the bed. He gently closed his fingers around hers.

"Hey," he said in a gravelly tone. "Whaddya hear?"

A tear glistened, balanced precariously on a lower lash. "Nothing but the rain, sir," she said back.

Lee watched the two silently. Only Kara could elicit that kind of smile from his father. Only his father could bring unabashed tears to Kara's eyes and make her speechless. Looking over at the President, he relaxed when she returned his glance with a smile and shrugged.

Her sentiment was unspoken, but the movement of her shoulder said it all and Lee knew she was right: there was no explaining the two of them. Kara and his father were crazy about each other in a way that made no sense to the rest of the universe.

He was learning to live with it, though. Whatever weird father/daughter, mentor/mentored relationship they'd forged since they'd met suited them, and the rest of the world would have to live with it. Nothing seemed to affect it - not even her acting like a complete ass when they first returned from New Caprica or his shoving her to the floor and telling her 'You were a daughter to me; but no more" seemed to have put a dent in it. If anything, their trust in one another had solidified still further. He had tested and challenged her and she had passed. And his father? As far as he could tell, his father was the one, solid, reliable force that she was willing to trust and believe in.

It was a totally inexplicable relationship, but Lee felt oddly reassured that he was seeing evidence of his father's expression of it for the first time since the rescue from New Caprica. Perhaps, he thought hopefully, his father was returning, and everything would soon be back to normal.

Finally, Lee took a deep breath and stepped forward to gain his father's attention. Tossing a quick glance towards the President, he turned back to his father and said, "Sir, Valerant has agreed to meet, but he's insisting that both you and the President be there," he said.

As Kara stepped away, Bill frowned and shot a look at Roslin before turning back to his son.

"He what?"

"He's willing to talk, and tomorrow morning is fine with him - but he insists on meeting with both you and the President. At the same time," he added, just in case he wasn't being clear.

Laura rose, and as she reached for her robe and pulled it on, she asked, "Did he say why?" She had no problem going - preferred the idea, in fact - but she was curious about the reasons behind the request. She wasn't crazy about the idea of someone dictating her attendance to a meeting she wasn't sure would meet with success.

"Yes," he father said. "Why would he request that?"

Lee hesitated. Looking over at Kara, he braced himself and then finally told his father, "He says he can't trust that one of you won't go against what the other has agreed to. He figures his chances are better with you both in the room."

Surprisingly, it was Roslin who protested.

Moving to take up her position next to Adama's headboard she frowned. "That's nonsense!" she exclaimed.

Adama looked up at her and quietly asked, "Is it?"

"Of course it is! I've agreed to everything you proposed. Why would I do anything to prevent that agreement from happening?" She turned to Lee and Kara. "If the Admiral and I have agreed on something-"

She saw their expressions and stopped talking abruptly.

She grimaced and had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. Perhaps their track record wasn't so good. Hers, perhaps, was worse than his. But that was then and this was now and the circumstances were completely different...And it was embarrassing and frustrating that some pilot she'd never heard of was expecting them to dance to his tune.

Bill watched as Laura's thoughts played across her features. Knowing her so well meant he knew exactly what she was thinking - or close to it, anyway. "He's not trying to manipulate us, Madame President, at least not in the way you're thinking. He has a legitimate concern that if I negotiate something, you may go ahead with something completely different, regardless of any agreement I've made with him." Irritated beyond words that he appeared to have been tarred by the same brush as Roslin, he added, "He obviously thinks I'm capable of doing the same thing, or he'd simply have asked to negotiate with you."

Slightly appeased by the fact he'd admitted that perhaps he wasn't being perceived as completely trustworthy, either, Roslin pursed her lips and thought a moment before speaking. "Okay," she finally said. "So he's got a point. But I hardly think that he can really think that whatever you negotiate with him won't be viewed as binding."

Biting back a response that would have held considerable sarcasm, Bill grappled with his irritation and instead observed, "I think he wants what we've already agreed is essential. He wants to see a united front. He wants to see that the military and the civilian authorities share the same priorities and are working towards the same things."

There was a moment's silence, then Laura asked, "And are we?"

Her question, and the tone in which it was asked, threw him for a moment.

He paused and looked at her with penetrating eyes. There were too many levels to that question. Too many hidden agendas, too many things he couldn't yet answer to.

"We can hope so," he equivocated. "On this, at least."

A flash of disappointment skimmed Roslin's features. Adama looked at her curiously.

The sound of someone clearing their throat reminded them both that there was another in the room who had not yet spoken. Turning, they regarded Cottle with identical looks of enquiry.

"You see a problem with the two of us going?" Adama asked.

Cottle kept his voice noncommittal. "None at all, if you promise not to tear each other apart before you get back."

Bill looked at Laura."I wouldn't presume to promise that," he said, "but I'm sure we'll do our best."

Laura bit her tongue and after shooting Bill a silent glare, refused to dignify the statement with further comment.

Seeing her chagrin, Bill allowed himself a flash of satisfaction before turning to Lee.

"I guess you can tell Valerant we'll both see him in the morning."

Kara and Lee looked at the two leaders and then at each other. This had gone far more easily than expected.

Following hard upon the tail of that thought was the question of when this cease fire would end.

-xxx-

After everyone had gone, Adama and Roslin lay across from each other. Both tried mightily to ignore the way the presence of the other was beginning to affect them. Memories, however, rose unbidden, swirling in the air around them and stroking their awareness that nothing in their shared past could be erased. No word spoken could be taken back, no deed committed undone. Everything of what they had shared - the anger, the trials and trauma and betrayals and lies...everything sat between them, solid, unmoving, and impenetrable.

But beating in counterpoint to that were the memories of soft, human touches, of whispered murmurs and gentle caresses shared in darkness, of growing understanding and a shared commitment. They had supported one another and provided strength and refuge and hope for one another when it had been needed most. Regardless of where they were now, there had been depth to what they had felt for one another; depth and meaning and a warm truth.

Much to their surprise, none of that could be taken back, either. It, too, wafted in the air around them, an enticing, ephemeral presence that refused to be ignored.

Adama moved restlessly and tried to shake off its siren call.

He looked at her and wondered if he should be feeling anger towards her instead.. Although he felt relief that, except for the issue of the shuttles landing on the _Galactica_, he and Roslin had been in tune with what should be done to handle the crisis, his relief was tainted by nervousness.

It wasn't normal for them to so naturally agree.

He had to be missing something.

She had to have something up her sleeve.

He looked over at her and she raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked.

"Why do I have the feeling I should be asking you something?"

She frowned. "Like what?"

"I'm not sure. Probably something like 'Have you kidnapped any babies lately?'"

The comment was outrageous and he knew it, but he somehow couldn't stop himself from making it.

The corners of her mouth tightened. "Would you please let go of that? I did what had to be done."

"You did what you wanted to," he accused. Feeling a welcome rush of real anger, he added, "You always do."

"How can you say that?" she exclaimed, her voice rising as her anger bubbled. "How dare you even think it? I make decisions - difficult decisions that have to be made - and I stand by them!"

Thinking of Helo and Sharon's heartbreak, he asked, "Do you also stand by the consequences?"

She wanted to shake him. "Like you haven't made errors in judgement!" she said bitterly. "Perhaps you'd like to discuss your having me arrested whenever I've done something you don't like, or your stupid insistence that _you _started the cylon attacks!"

She'd made him suffer for both of those things, and he hadn't needed to be reminded of either.

"Don't push it, Laura," he warned, his voice rising dangerously as his ire grew.

She jumped on his use of her first name. "Oh, and now I'm Laura?" she asked, her voice increasing in volume to match his. "Sometimes I forget who I am with you - you keep changing your mind, though gods know you've been pretty consistent since we returned from New Caprica!"

He sat up straight, his hands planted firmly on each side of him. "_I _keep changing _my_ mind? Oh, no," he said shaking his head, "you can't lay that at my feet. It's _you _who says one thing and then does another. It's you who-"

She tossed her bed covers aside angrily and rose. Gesturing, she broke into his words. "How dare you? Do you have any idea of how difficult it is to decide what to do, to know that every decision I make affects so many? You have no idea. No idea whatsoever!"

Seeing her rise, he matched her movements, though not so quickly as she. Still, anger propelled him to his feet and got him half way across the room before he was totally aware of what he was doing. He looked down at her. Hands on her hips, she looked at him defiantly. Anger making his heart beat a rapid tattoo, he told her, "Excuse me if my heart doesn't bleed for you. If you had one ounce of empathy, if you'd ever just once considered the effect your little machinations might have on others, perhaps I'd feel some sympathy, but you're-"

-xxx-

Standing on the other side of the door leading to the Admiral's and President's room, Meyes hesitated, then pulled her hand away from the handle. The raised voices emitting from the other side of the door weren't happy ones. She stared at the door a moment, waiting for the argument to lull. When it didn't, she stepped back, wondering what to do. Evaluating the volume and intensity of what she was overhearing, she decided the stormy debate would blow itself out soon. Nothing stayed at that pitch for long.

Five minutes passed and the argument hadn't abated. She was leaning against the wall, trying to determine if she should gather her courage and just barge in and break it up, or leave to do something else, when Cottle turned the corner.

"Not enough to do, Meyes?" he asked from the end of the corridor. "What are you doing out here holding the wall up? I thought you said you were on the way to get the Admiral and President ready for lights out."

As he got closer, the sound of raised voices made him focus on the closed door.

Drawing to a stop next to her, he asked, "Gods. How long've they been doing _that_?"

"I've been here for five minutes. They were going at it full steam when I got here."

He grimaced. "Damned lucky for them the press isn't within hearing range!" He looked at the door. "It sounds bad in there." _And neither of them could just walk out - they had nowhere to walk to. That _had_ to be brutal, _he thought to himself. Over the sound of Bill's roar, he asked, "Why haven't you gone in to stop it?"

Her eyes opened wide. "You think I have a death wish?" she asked with a touch of impatience. "I don't see _you_ rushing in there!"

"Don't be insubordinate," he scolded half-heartedly. She had a point, but he'd be damned if he'd admit it.

"Keep your voice down!" she warned, "We don't want them to know we know they're arguing."

"We don't?"

"No! If they know we're outside and can hear them, they'll stop, and if they stop and find out that it's us, they'll be furious at us instead of each other."

He blinked. The twists and turns of a woman's mind sometimes made it difficult to follow.

"Okay..." he said uncertainly.

"It's probably best for them to get this out of their systems, anyway," she said in a practical tone. Keeping her voice low, she explained, "It'll clear the air between them. They need to work out whatever it is going on between them, and if screaming at one another at the top of their lungs is how they need to do it, that's fine by me."

He paused. Screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs wasn't in character for either of the two people now heavily involved in that very activity. Maybe it _would _be good for them. Like Meyes said: get it out of their system. Clear the air. Put them back on an even keel. Settle things. Get them back on track... Running out of ways to say it, he glanced at Meyes and wondered what she thought was 'going on' between the two leaders. Knowing her rather romantic leanings, he figured he could pretty much guess. Sighing, he said, "Maybe you're right."

She smiled sweetly. "Of course I am. But I'm sure you won't mind if I write down that you're admitting it."

He grunted. "Don't be a smart ass." Turning towards the closed door, he asked, "You make out anything they were saying?"

She grinned. He was so predictable. "Maybe," she told him. " I-" She stopped as the unmistakable sound of a loud slap echoed into the corridor. Both looked at the door, frozen in shocked silence. Gradually, low murmurs could be heard from the other side of the door. The voices weren't angry now, which they counted as a good thing. Relaxing, the two eavesdroppers looked at one another.

Then the murmurs were replaced by silence.

Slowly, they looked at the door again, and then turned back to look at one another.

_Now what?_

After a moment, Cottle moved forward and reached towards the door handle. Meyes quickly grasped his arm.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

Surprised, he looked down at where her hand rested on his arm, then looked back up at her face. "Going in, what you think?" he rasped.

"You can't go in there now!"

"Why not? They've stopped fighting."

She exhaled loudly in frustration. "Exactly! That's why you can't go in!"

He frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?" he whispered. "We couldn't go in because they were fighting, and now we can't go in because they're _not_? Why the hell-"

He stopped abruptly.

"Gods," he muttered. He looked at the door and took an involuntary step backwards. "Walking in on them once was enough." _And that was with Adama unconscious. With the two of them awake..._

Meyes looked at him sharply. The fingers grasping his arm clutched tighter. "What? What did you walk in on?"

_If he'd been keeping information from her, she'd find a way of making him suffer._

Cottle looked at Meyes and then at the door again. Sighing, he pointedly loosened the grip she had on him and then tucked her hand around his arm as he led her away and down the deserted corridor. Knowing she wouldn't be pleased he'd kept something this interesting from her, he began to explain, "It only happened this morning..."

-xxx-

Bill's hand lifted to hold his cheek.

"Well, _that _made your point."

Laura moved forward involuntarily. Placing one hand on his shoulder, she lifted the other to gently touch his cheek. "Bill, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Oh, gods... It's just that when you mentioned Zarek-"

She cursed herself when he flinched at the mention of the man's name. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I was wrong. What I did then was stupid, and looking back on it, I can't even fully explain it. But at the time, it seemed the only way I had of getting what I needed. You were gone, and I didn't know what was happening, and I was responsible for everything, and I felt as though I had to know what Baltar was doing on _Colonial One_. It seemed the logical thing to do..." Her voice drifted off. _Gods._..

She slid both hands to rest firmly against his chest. Her eyes tearful, she gathered herself together and straightened her posture. Putting her chin up, she warned him, "I may have been wrong in my methods in the past, but Zarek is the _only_ thing I regret, and I only regret it now because of what it's done to us; because of the pain it caused you. I didn't think it through. I thought I was just sacrificing myself; I didn't think about how what I was doing would affect you. Everything else, though, I stand by."

He looked at her, and suddenly the gravity of the situation flew out the door.

"You're crazy."

She looked at him closely, sensing a change in him, but not sure of the reason.

"So what if I am?" she asked.

He held her gaze. _So what, indeed_.

Moving to cup the sides of her face in his hands, he slowly lowered his head until his mouth touched her lips.

-xxx-

Laura drew away slightly. Her heart was racing and her body responding to him in such a sudden way that it was hard to catch her breath. At any other time, she might have found his effect on her amusing.

"Well..." she whispered uncertainly. Her knees were quivering, and every nerve in her body hummed with life and anticipation.

Bill looked at her, completely at a loss as to what had just come over him.

Scratch that. He knew exactly what had come over him, and he had to learn to fight it.

"I shouldn't have done that. It doesn't change anything," he told her reluctantly.

She looked at him, fell in love with the blue of his eyes once again, and moved to gently rest her body against his. Sliding her arms around his neck, she rose onto her toes and let her lips rest against his.

"I think it does," she whispered softly.

She rejoiced when she felt his arms tighten around her.

End  
Chapter 22

Eeep. I'm sorry this was so long...


	23. Prelude

**Yes, it's been a while. Sorry about that. I'm trying to make sure that my ducks are all in a row. They're unruly little creatures, though, so I'm not sure I'm doing such a good job with them. In any event, this chapter ended up far more introspective than I'd intended. I kept thinking 'more action, less thinking' but...**

** My apologies for that.**

**Thanks for the encouraging reviews! And Sal, thanks for the pm about the grammar thing. Any time anyone sees something weird, please let me know - it's appreciated. (Not that I don't have a certain fondness for weird, but...) **

**Disclaimer: nothing's changed in my end of the world. I didn't and I don't, and I won't, either.**

* * *

**Too High a Cost  
**By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 23**

**Prelude **

He tightened his arms and she relaxed into his embrace. When she lifted parted lips to meet his, he met them readily.

He was going to be around for a while more, and so would she. The anger, the loss of trust, the uncertainty... somehow, he had to figure out how to live with it and continue on. Holding her like this and exploring her mouth with his tongue wasn't the way to do that, but it wasn't something he wanted to think about just yet...

...Because right now, living with it and continuing on seemed remarkably easy. It was a blessed relief to have his arms wrapped around her, to feel her lips against his. She felt slight and fragile, and fit against him like a treasured memory. Tightening his hold on her, he tore his mouth from hers and buried his face into the softness of her hair. He'd missed her. This was like being made whole after having been cut into pieces and thrown to the winds.

But it had been the woman in his arms who had torn him apart, and she who had shaken and then shattered the foundation of everything he believed in. Where Laura was concerned, his perceptions were faulty and he had to guard against repeating past mistakes. At some point, for whatever reason, she would betray him again. This woman was dangerous, temperamental, and as trustworthy as a shark.

And gods, it felt good to hold her again.

She nestled her forehead against the crook of his neck and spoke words she had said only once before.

"I love you."

The words were sighed against him, and had the sound of something said without thinking.

And he believed them.

But that wouldn't stop her from betraying him when she next felt it necessary.

It was a dichotomy that he didn't understand, and still didn't know how to live with.

She loved him and she acted against him. It made no sense...but he and she were living proof that lots of things about relationships didn't. The need to hold and be held was a very human one, and sense wasn't on its list of requirements - and it certainly wasn't something obliterated by position or regulation or a strong sense of duty. Something in each called to the other in melodies neither of them could ignore.

But the round robin debate going on in his head also reminded him that her actions and their consequences were also impossible to ignore. The decisions she'd made, the steps she'd taken unilaterally without consideration of anything but her own desired ends needed to be questioned and examined. It wasn't, he was beginning to think, merely her position and her need to get the job done that had made her act the way that she had. To understand her choices, he needed to understand her more.

He wasn't sure that was possible.

-xxx-

Laura stood engulfed in his arms and buried her head into the crook of his neck. Her relief that he was responding to her was palpable, singing through her veins in trembling arias that made her shiver with joy.

This was the man who completed her, who protected her and challenged her and made her more than the sum of her parts. If she were the lighthouse, he was the rock upon which she stood. For her to be who she was would be impossible without him.

The thought frightened her.

She also knew he would no more continue to hold her like this than the cylons would cease seeking the destruction of humanity.  
Something had changed in him again; he was not the lover he had been before New Caprica, nor was he the remote stone of a man whose eyes had flashed with hatred only weeks ago. It was too early to tell yet who he was now - or to know how deeply his anger still flowed, but she felt a reserve in the way he held her, a reserve, even, in his kiss. That there was emotion there was undisputed, but it was restrained, observant, and careful.

She drew back and looked at him. She wanted to say many things, but before she could, he straightened, and grimaced in pain. Obviously fighting for his next breath, he released his grip on her.

"I think I need to lie down," he said in a tight voice.

Laura's soft expression was immediately replaced by one of concern. "You've been standing too long! Let's get you back into bed. You're supposed to be resting."

She stepped away and drew him toward his bed, then watched with furrowed brows as he slowly settled himself down. Once he stilled, she reached for the intercom button to contact the nurses' station.

"Don't," Bill said as he closed his eyes and raised a hand to his chest. "I'm all right. Our little argument took more out of me than I thought it would, that's all."

She placed a hand on his shoulder and softly trailed a fingertip against the side of his neck.

With her other hand, she tapped the intercom signal.

"We weren't just fighting," she reminded him, "we were making up, too. I want to make sure you're okay, Bill. It's almost time for Cottle's last rounds, anyway. It won't hurt if he gets called here a few minutes early."

She was speaking the words and they were registering with him, but neither her thoughts nor his were focussed on anything even remotely connected to a call to the nurses' station. Things still weren't resolved between them. Uncertain as to what their next steps should be, their eyes glanced off one another.

The uncertainty made her uneasy.

She'd lost control of their relationship; lost control of its direction and lost confidence in her ability to determine its final destination. For the first time, it appeared that it was he who would determine how things between them would go.

Or if they would 'go' at all.

The intercom beeped and a voice asked, "Can I help you?"

Tilting her head towards the wall speaker, Laura said, "The Admiral isn't feeling well. Could you ask the doctor to come and check on him, please?"

She ignored Bill's glare.

Some things she couldn't control.

Some things she could.

-xxx-

Short minutes later, Doctor Cottle bustled in with Meyes close on his heels.

Seeing Roslin standing in position at Adama's bed, he shot a glance at his medic. As Dana Meyes was apt to do when they were discussing things not medical, she had spoken her mind quite bluntly. In no uncertain terms, she'd told him that he was not to say anything to embarrass either Adama or Roslin. "Their lives are difficult enough without your smart-ass comments making things harder," she'd scolded him. "If they are involved and keeping it secret, leave them be. I think it's wonderful. Don't you dare make whatever it is they feel for each other something else they need to worry about."

He thought it was something that was worrying them already, but had refrained from saying so aloud. He also thought she had nerve, thinking she could tell him what not to do.

But, though he'd scowled at her fiercely, her words had made him pause. He hated to admit it, but he didn't like the idea of making Adama uncomfortable. The man had been through enough and could do with a break. If Roslin were what Bill Adama needed or wanted, perhaps Jack Cottle would just have to put up with it, whether he understood the man's choices or not.

Roslin, however, he had figured as a fair target...

Casting a glance her way, he drew up to Adama's bed and asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Bill told him curtly. "I got up for a while, and then felt some chest constriction. It kind of burrowed its way down to my stomach, but I'm fine, now."

Biting back a caustic question about what the frak he'd been doing while up, Cottle reached into his pocket. "Let me be the judge of whether you're fine or not," he told him. Taking out his stethoscope, he listened to Bill's heart, tapped on his chest and stomach in a few places, took his pulse, and then had a look into his eyes. Conscious of Roslin's presence, he looked up. Satisfied with what he'd found, he put his stethoscope back into his pocket and told her, "You can stop hovering. It's just like he says; he's fine. And you," he said, turning to Adama, "have to pay attention to what your body is telling you. I'm all for your being up and about, but I'd be happier if you didn't overdo it. How long were you on your feet? You're supposed to be resting, not dancing around your room."

"I wasn't dancing," Bill denied grumpily, "and I wasn't the one who called you. How can I get any rest with people running in and out of here all the time? Leave me alone, and I promise I'll get some sleep. I'll be fine for tomorrow."

"I've no doubt you will be," Cottle said. "But since being disturbed is such a concern, I'll tell my night staff to stay the hell out of here until morning rounds. You need a good, solid night's sleep." Looking at Roslin with knowing eyes, he couldn't resist adding, "Just make sure 'sleep' is all you're doing."

Oblivious to the point the doctor was making, Bill nodded and closed his eyes.

_Not_ oblivious to the point the doctor was making, Laura glared.

Cottle smirked.

Meyes stepped forward.

"Let me help you into bed and take your readings, Madame President," she offered in a soft tone. "Then it's lights out and we'll leave you alone."

With one last glare at Cottle, Laura moved towards her bed. "Thank you, Dana," she said as she crawled in and lifted the covers over her.

While Cottle made notations on his chart, Bill opened his eyes to ask, "What's happening with the shuttle? Has it landed yet? Are you okay for supplies and space?"

"You're not supposed to be worrying about that," the doctor said gruffly, "but as it happens, you don't need to. We set up temporary space for the first shuttle-load of people in the museum bay," he said."I've put Doctor Robert in charge, and it looks as though everything's going smoothly. We're making do with whatever we can scrounge up for bedding, but so far no one's complaining. You can sleep well tonight knowing that's one small problem taken care of."

Adama shook his head. Resting his head back against the pillows, he acknowledged, "It was a big problem, not a little one, Jack. Thank you."

Cottle grunted. The museum bay was in one hell of a state of disarray, and they were using old packing cases stacked up as walls to separate patients where necessary. The heating there was the shits, and it was a pain in the ass to get from Life Support to there and back. It was also woefully understaffed. But it would work because it had to work.

"Hey," he said gruffly, "anytime you need a miracle, I'm your man."

Finishing up with the President, Meyes walked out the open door and turned to wait for the doctor. Cottle followed her, but when he turned to close the door, he couldn't resist poking his head back into the room and firing off a final salvo in Roslin's direction.

Waiting for her to make eye contact with him, he winked.

"I'm sure I can trust you to keep an eye on him."

He began to close the door, then opened it a bit to order in a gruff tone, "But behave yourself."

When the door finally closed after him, Laura let out a frustrated sound. "He's insufferable!" she exclaimed.

Puzzled by the outburst, Bill opened his eyes and looked over at her. "He's a little eccentric."

"He's far more than that; he's infuriating, and far too self-satisfied."

Bill frowned, wondering what Cottle had done to get on Laura's bad side.

"What did he do?" he asked.

Laura hesitated. She had no desire whatsoever to tell him what Cottle had walked in on or any of the things Cottle had said. The reservation in Bill's response to her made her wary of revealing too much, and her crawling into bed with him while he had been unconscious gave away too much about her feelings and put on display a neediness that embarrassed her.

"Nothing," she said. "I just find him rude."

"Rude."

"Yes. And condescending."

"Really."

"Yes!" she said, becoming irritated with Bill's attitude as well.

Tired, Bill allowed his eyes to drop closed once again. "I can't even begin to imagine what he did. You should be used to him by now - you two seemed to get along when you were ill."

That was true, but she still wasn't going to explain why he irritated the crap out of her now.

"That was then and this is now," she said stubbornly.

"Okay," Bill said. Having other priorities - sleep being amongst them - he was willing to wait to satisfy his curiosity on this particular matter

He exhaled slowly, and his whole demeanour seemed to change. His voice rasped somewhere deep in his throat when he finally broke the heavy silence that had fallen between them: "We have to talk, Laura. "

She looked at him. He was lying quietly, his eyes closed. She thought he had never looked more alone.

"I know," she said softly.

Feeling the distance between them, she rose and moved to his bedside. When she was next to him, he seemed to sense her presence and opened his eyes to look up at her.

Something inside her swelled with emotion. They weren't the eyes that had once looked at her with love and warmth and trusting affection. Nor were they the eyes that had looked at her with cold, angry distain. Now, they were more difficult to read, though reserve and caution were evident...

... she hoped she saw shadows of other, warmer emotions.

Taking his hand in hers, she looked down at him and smiled when he tightened his fingers around hers.

They looked at one another wordlessly for a long heart beat.

Something in his eyes shuttered closed. "You're going to get cold standing there. You should get into bed," he said gruffly as he released her hand.

Heart sinking, she glanced back at the other side of the room.

He saw her expression, and lifted his coverlet in silent invitation.

Relief flooded through her.

-xxx-

He wasn't sure what impulse had led him to do it, but as soon as it was done there was no calling the gesture back.

Not that he had any desire to.

After she had slid in next to him, they shifted to get comfortable and settled into silence.

It was Laura who eventually broke it.

"Bill..."

Bill ran a warm palm down her arm. "Not now. When we have our conversation, it can't be like this." His lips softly kissed the top of her head. "We'll talk tomorrow."

She wanted to cry. She felt his warmth against her, felt its reassurance sink into her very bones...and felt a tremor of fear becasue in spite of their present position, nothing was settled, and deep down, she was certain he would feel that there could be no going back, no resuming what they'd had. This moment in his arms was a salute to those times when things had seemed to be right between them. One last look at what they'd shared and had lost. A salute, if you like to when it had seemed that they could love one another and still serve the people and guide the fleet...

...But that was a time that seemed long ago and far away. He had changed, she had made mistakes, and they would have to sort out who and what they were.

And who and what they would be.

"Okay," she agreed. Settling her head on his shoulder, she draped her arm lightly across his torso and closed her eyes.

Bill lay silently. As he finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep he tried to focus on what the future would hold, but could come up with nothing.

It felt right to hold her now, though.

Laura lay awake for a long time, listening as Bill's breathing deepened into sleep. Afraid of the changes they would need to make, she squeezed her eyes shut against her tears.

End  
Chapter 23


	24. Repair

Okay, I think this is kinda 'M' in a couple of spots, though I'm not sure. Anyway, it's all shoved at the beginning... Lots of switches in pov. I tried it a few different ways, and I'm not even sure this is the better of them, but...It's finally reasonably finished, so here 'tis.

Many thanks for the reviews - they let me know people are reading, and that keeps me plugging away at this.

Disclaimer: I dis all claims. Honest.

* * *

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**Chapter 24**

**Repair**

They'd slipped out of sleep gradually, the steady increase in sound outside in the corridor heralding the end of ship's night and the beginning of another day. Both knew the other was awake. Both remained silent in an unspoken desire to hold on to this last comfortable moment by pretending that nothing existed beyond what they were experiencing at that precise moment in time.

_Warmth... connection... peace._

It was a familiar attempt.

From the very beginning of their affair, they had lain together and tried to hold reality at bay for just a while longer. Now, however, it was an attempt tainted by the knowledge that it was not just outside pressures they had to contend with. Now, everything between them was changed as well. The foundation upon which they had built their connection had crumbled. Circling in the air around them and challenging the warm cocoon of their sleepy embrace was the uncertainty of what their next step would be and of where they would find themselves once it was taken.

Reluctantly, Laura began to debate the hour, wondering how long it would be before Cottle arrived to disrupt and disgruntle. When Bill moved slightly, however, she ran a gentle hand across his chest and pushed thoughts of the irritating CMO away. She wished the bandages beneath the undershirts gone. She had lost this man in many ways over the past months, but the bandages were a reminder of how close she had come to losing him completely. Impulsively, she shifted her head and kissed him where his jaw met his ear.

-xxx-

Bill felt the quick, soft caress of her lips and kept his eyes firmly closed. Pulling her close and kissing her in return would have been the most natural thing in the world to do. He could picture in his mind's eye shifting so that he leaned over her, his leg casually resting on hers, his growing erection pressing against her thigh. He could picture himself slowly capturing her lips with his; could imagine the smooth silkiness of her skin as his hands slid beneath her gown, travelling up her hip and waist to gently cup a soft breast. He could picture her body moving in a warm response to his caress...He knew where she liked to be touched, knew how to-

He inhaled deeply. Clenching his hands, he stopped the progression of his thoughts.

Now was no time to be acting on physical impulse. He needed time - time to think coherently and time to consider both the past and the future. He also needed space. The physical aspect of their relationship wasn't a problem - it was everything else that was, and trying to think clearly about any of it with her wrapped up against him was next to impossible. He exhaled slowly. Inviting her into his bed - no matter how much they had both wanted the comfort - had been yet another mistake in a long litany of them.

He did not, however, move. His anger, for now, had abated to a dull throb, and was overshadowed in part by an increasingly pervasive sense of sadness and loss.

"Good morning," he said gruffly. Clearing his throat, he shifted slightly, allowing more circulation to flow through the arm she lay upon.

-xxx-

Laura recognised the rolling shoulder movement. In earlier times, she would have helped by grinning and then crawling on top of him to lie draped over his body like a lazy seal relaxing on a warm rock.

Her fingers clenched on the top of his chest at the memory. She'd loved doing that. Loved the pressure of her body on his, loved his warmth seeping into her... loved the sensual feeling of his naked body moving against hers, and the feeling of power she flushed through her he responded to her... She'd loved his hands travelling across her skin, softly caressing at first, and then growing more demanding as their passion awakened and took flight...

She'd loved it when he rolled her over so that he lay on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his knee between her thighs.

Even more, she'd loved the look on his face as he gazed down at her, wanting her, needing her, and demanding that she respond to him in kind.

And she always had. Arms welcoming, legs spread, she'd pull him down against herself, tilt her hips and reach to guide him into her, sighing as he burrowed into her with his heat and promise.

She'd always thought she could feel herself grow in his arms. Every cell, every pore in her body, seemed to open itself up to him, exposing and expanding nerves that vibrated beneath his touch as he pleased her...

She lay next to him, her memories holding her motionless. Once they'd discovered their mutual attraction, they'd made the next sensible, adult move. She wasn't certain when it had turned into something more, wasn't certain when it had gone from 'I'm attracted to you, so let's do this' sex to 'I need you and don't want to do without you' sex, but it had. Lying in his bunk, the play of light and shadow dancing across their skin, she had wanted nothing more than to share her existence with him. It had felt right. It had felt good.

It had been more intense than anything she'd ever experienced.

He moved her. Filled her. Made her complete... He'd taken away her hesitations, her reservations, torn down her barriers and helped her build something new... 

He had been hers and she'd revelled in that knowledge.

And she, gods help her, had been his. 

Had been, was now, and probably always would be. There was little doubt of that now, though she'd been too slow to realise the fact and it was now too late...Because he didn't know. And with all that had passed between them wouldn't believe her if she told him.

Voices outside disturbed her thoughts and a trill of anxiety coursed through her. Someone, be it Cottle or Meyes, would arrive soon. 

As though thinking the same thought, Bill murmured, "Cottle will be here soon."

When they'd been lovers, they had kept their relationship carefully clandestine. Now it was second nature.

"You want the shower first?" he asked, knowing the answer.

Taking her lead from his tone, Laura slid from the bed carefully. "Yes, thank you," she said.

Shivering slightly from the loss of his body heat, she stood and turned to look at him. Strange how she could feel so distant from him after sharing so intimate a position. Strange how they could share a bed and remain so apart. She didn't understand the impulse that had led him to invite her next to him, didn't understand the need that had led her to so readily join him. She looked at him, her eyes filled with question.

She didn't know what to say.

He returned her gaze with a serious, unfathomable gaze of his own.

Sudden realisation hit her. _Neither did he._

She wondered if they were so far apart that they wouldn't have understood one another even if they had...

The sound of something being dropped in the corridor made Laura reach for her robe. "I won't be long," she promised.

Feeling oddly deflated, Bill nodded.

-xxx-

Cottle rapped on the door. After a count of three, he entered.

"Good morning, Admiral," he said in a breezy tone. "I trust you slept well."

Adama admitted that he had.

Noting that Roslin was nowhere in sight and that he could hear the shower running, Cottle made small talk as he examined his patient. Eventually, he asked in a careful tone, "And how's the President?"

"She seems fine."

Cottle raised an eyebrow at the cryptic response. He'd noticed a long, stray hair on Adama's pillow when he'd been listening to the Admiral's heartbeat. Now, he saw another on the mattress beside his arm.

_The woman shed like a frakking Canceron sheep dog. _

Resisting the urge to repeat the performance he had enacted with Roslin, he let the hairs lie where they were and asked, "You two been awake long?"

"No. She got into the shower just before you arrived."

Only the sound of his pencil scraping against the paper on Adama's chart marred the strangled silence that ensued as the doctor took a moment to bite his tongue and congratulate himself on his self-restraint. Meyes was going to love this.

Bill broke the silence with an abrupt question.

"If the President is doing so well, why is she still in Life Station?"

Cottle was momentarily thrown by the enquiry. Debating how to answer, he finally settled with: "Guess there are a bunch of reasons for that. At the time the decision was made to discharge her or not, she and I both felt it better to wait. She couldn't - and still can't - go back to Colonial One. It's been flying with a skeleton crew for a while now, and it's the last place I'd want her to go because it was so hard hit with the infection." He paused, then continued honestly, "I also wanted to keep a close eye on her. She has the civilian fleet to take care of and the Quorum to keep in check, and that's a lot to ask of someone recovering from a couple of gunshot wounds that should have killed her. I figured her doing whatever it is she does from here gave her a sheltered area to work from and I could step in if I thought she was over-exerting herself."

Relieved by Cottle's answer, a glimmer of humour flickered in Adama's eyes. "I never saw you as a mother hen," he murmured.

The doctor grunted. "Yeah, well now it's only you and my hairdresser who know for sure. Let's keep it that way, shall we?" A part of him wondered if he should mention his suspicion that Roslin's primary reason for not wanting to leave had been because she'd wanted to keep an eye on a certain Admiral.

The shower stopped and both men glanced involuntarily at the door to the head.

"She'll be out soon," Cottle said.

Still preoccupied by the relief that there weren't underlying reasons for Laura's continued presence, Bill nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "She never takes-" He stopped abruptly.

Cottle quickly looked away and dropped his pencil. Coughing slightly, he bent over. When he straightened from picking it up, his face held nothing more than its usual look of slight disgruntlement. Knowing this was as good a time as any, he said, "You two have stopped looking daggers at each other. I take it you've managed to come to some kind of terms?"

He was likely the first person to dare bring up the subject, and he could feel his heart beating a little faster than usual. He could also feel his muscles tightening in expectation of a cold reprimand. Still, he held Bill's eyes steadily, to let him know he expected a serious answer.

Silence sat between the two men as Adama considered his answer. Finally he reluctantly admitted, "We're not there yet, but it'll happen."

Relieved by the unexpected restraint in the Admiral's response, Cottle nodded. "That's good to hear," he said in a gruff tone. "To be honest, I thought you'd be asking me to throw her out as soon as you gained consciousness and realised that she was here." Going out on a limb, he added, "I'm finding myself kind of glad you didn't, though."

"Oh?"

The doctor knew it was an invitation to clarify himself and fleetingly wondered if maybe this was the time to stop sticking his nose into something not his business. He sighed. Too late to turn over a new leaf now.

But not too late to attempt diplomacy. Old dogs _could_ learn new tricks...

"I've noticed," he admitted, "that things run a lot smoother when the military and civilian leaders get along." When he saw the look on Adama's face, he hastened to add, "Not that I think you need to be in each other's pockets. And maybe not a lot of people noticed you couldn't stand being in the same room with her. Now, with the infection and everything, people are probably too busy to care... and even if you aren't getting along, I'm sure you're capable of getting the job done, it just that..."

His voice drifted off when Adama's expression continued to tighten. He clamped down on his tongue. Damn Meyes and her stupid yammering about being happy for them, and it being good for everyone if their two leaders were happy...

He hated not being firmly convinced one way or the other about what he thought of a relationship between the two... He didn't like Roslin all that much, but like any man would, he liked the idea of the Admiral 'getting some' - and he knew that Bill liked being in a relationship - his long-standing marriage to Anne had been testimony to that. Roslin, he thought, was no Anne, but as he'd thought before, she was a challenge - a beautiful one that Bill would likely fall all over himself chasing. And they'd certainly shown that they worked well together. Both had grown a lot since the Fates had thrown them into the positions they now held. That they had also grown close made sense, and could even be a good thing, all things considered.

He grimaced. He was turning into a damned frakking _romantic_.

Cottle watched as Bill turned his eyes towards the door to the head. His expression unreadable, he said, "If I'd been thinking clearly, I would have asked to be moved. It's too late now, though.".

The doctor cocked his head to one side. He was tempted to ask what Adama meant by that, but then thought better of it. The two or three hairs he'd spotted on the Admiral's bed might be evidence to the contrary, but things obviously weren't all smooth sailing between the two just yet.

Then he frowned at Bill's use of 'thinking clearly'.

"How have you been in that regard?" he asked. "Do you remember what happened on the planet now? Are all your memories back?"

Adama shook his head. "I'm still having little flashbacks, but not as many as I was."

Cottle shrugged. "That's often the way with trauma like this. Don't worry about it. You may never get everything back."

"There are some things I wouldn't have minded forgetting," Bill said, eying the door.

The glance toward the door had been unconscious on Bill's part, but Cottle couldn't resist responding to it. "Roslin's not an easy woman to forget," he said gruffly, "but she's not all bad; just a challenge, maybe."

-xxx-

Adama looked at the doctor sharply. Jack was starting to tread in very personal waters, and he wasn't sure this was the time for his back-handed version of personal advice. He opened his mouth to issue a warning when the door to the washroom opened.

Roslin stepped into the room wrapped in her robe. Her hair still damp, she looked around. "Tory hasn't arrived with my suit yet?" she asked.

"Good morning, Madame President," Cottle said in a dry tone.

Bill smiled inwardly when Laura merely flicked the doctor a nod of acknowledgment. Laura was in preparation mode. Social niceties weren't high on her list when she was physically and mentally getting ready for something important. During the shower, she would have been mentally shifting gears, her thoughts slowly turning to the day's upcoming events and what would be required of her.

"No, Laura," he told her patiently, "she hasn't. You told her to arrive sometime around 0700. She's got another twenty minutes."

Laura looked up at the wall time piece. He was right. "Then you should hop in now," she told him, "Your uniform is coming at the same time, isn't it?"

He nodded and slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed.

-xxx-

From the foot of the Admiral's bed, Cottle watched as Adama stopped a moment to get his equilibrium. The President made a movement towards him and then stopped herself. He watched as she relaxed when Adama stood with only a slight tightening of his facial features. Cottle's eyes widened when he saw her expression. Surprised, he stepped back slightly. There had been a domesticity to the whole 'it's your turn to shower' scene that he'd found disconcerting, but that look on her face...it struck a chord inside him he hadn't expected.

Unaware of Laura's concern and Cottle's probing look, Bill placed a hand against his abdomen and told them in a raspy voice, "I won't be long."

Shaking himself from his reverie, Cottle said, "Be careful when you take those bandages off. Meyes will be in to put on fresh ones in a few minutes. I'll be in to check you one last time before you leave. That'll be around 0900, right?"

Adama nodded and walked slowly toward the head.

-xxx-

After Laura had settled into her bed, Cottle moved over to take her readings. "You sleep okay?" he asked.

She looked at him warily. "Just fine, thank you," she said tersely.

He lifted an eyebrow and pretended surprise. "You don't sound so fine. In fact, I'd say you almost sound disgruntled! I'd have expected you to be looking forward to your trip out of Life Station today."

She looked at him closely, saw no signs of a hidden agenda, and relaxed a little. "Actually, we need to talk about that. I'm probably ready to leave Life Station permanently. I'm feeling well enough, and it would be much more convenient to work from my office."

Now Cottle's surprise was real.

"You want me to discharge you _now_?" he asked. "The Admiral's been conscious for less than twenty-four hours! He's going to be here for at least another few days. And I'd rather not see you go until I have your blood results back. I don't expect those until later today."

"The length of the Admiral's stay is up to you," she said. "I think it's time I got back to my routine. I feel fine, and it will help to be where people are able to come and go as necessary."

"It's that 'coming and going as necessary' that has me worried," Cottle argued. "I don't want you overdoing it. It hasn't been that long since I was thinking there was no way I could save your ass-" He stopped abruptly. "Sorry. What I meant to say is that you were very near death not too long ago. I'd be happier if you eased back into your duties slowly."

"One can only go so slowly," she told him. Looking at the doorway Adama had disappeared through, she said, "I think it's better if I start getting on with things."

Cottle looked at her and felt at a loss. He was used to anger, to fire, to snide remarks and ire that could burn the bristles off a boar. All he saw now was sadness. Resignation...

What a difference a few hours made.

It took away all the fun of messing with her mind.

He sighed. "Let me think about it. I refuse to let you go back to_ Colonial One_, though. That means you stay here until I find you another place else to go, understood?"

She nodded and settled her head back against her pillow to wait for her suit.

End  
Chapter 24


	25. Retread

**It's a shortee, but it serves as a bridge from point A to point B, so... here 'tis.**

* * *

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**Chapter 25**

**Retread **

Tory arrived precisely at 0700 with Laura Roslin's suit. The President was in the head changing into it when Kara Thrace arrived a short time later. Poking her head around the door jamb, Kara checked out who was there and then stepped inside. Nodding a greeting to Tory, who sat beside the President's bed reading a file, she walked over to the Admiral's bedside and grinned at him. "Lee's stuck in CIC for a few minutes. I told him not to worry - I didn't mind running down with this." She held up his uniform. Adama grinned back at her, knowing the pleasure she got from flaunting visiting hours with an excuse that would hold up if Cottle caught her.

"Good to see you, too, Kara," he told her dryly. "Sit down and stay a while. You're safe for the time being; Cottle won't be back until around 0900."

Looking over at the room's other bed, she asked, "Where's the President?"

"In changing. She'll be out shortly."

Kara wanted to ask him how he felt about her going with him when he spoke with Valerant, but knew better than to with Tory there. She sighed. He'd been a lot more understanding of Valerant's unusual demand than she'd expected, but she wasn't certain it was a sign of a reduction in tension between him and the President.

Before they could say more, their attention was diverted by Dana Meyes' arrival. As Cottle had promised, she carried with her all the paraphernalia necessary for replacing his bandages.

"Good morning, Meyes," he said. Settling back onto his pillows, he looked down at his bare, scarred torso and asked, "This going to take long?"

Dana shook her head. Taking a practiced look at his wounds, she told him, "You're healing nicely. All I've got to do is make sure the skin is dry and put on new coverings. Another few days, and you won't be needing bandages at all."

She looked at Kara, saw the uniform she held in her hands, and weighed whether or not to say anything about visiting hours. She quickly decided against it. The President's aide had been allowed to arrive early and stay; it was only fair Major Thrace be allowed to remain as well.

Used to being watched, she didn't mind when Kara drew up a chair and closely observed her every move as she worked on replacing the Admiral's bandages.

-xxx-

Adama was sitting on the edge of his bed and carefully pulling his undershirts down over the medic's handiwork when Helo and Sharon Agathon arrived. His brows rose in surprise and he glanced at the wall's time piece. He wondered how they'd gotten past Cottle's watchdogs. "Helo, Sharon," he greeted them. "It's good to see you, but it a little early for a visit, isn't it?"

Helo inclined his head. It was before visiting hours, but it hadn't been as hard as they'd feared to reach the Admiral's door without being stopped. Being recognised, he decided, had its advantages. As for his _excuse_ for being there, it hadn't been easy, but after a little persuasion, he and Sharon had managed to secure piloting and co-piloting duty for today's trip from Tigh. He was feeling quite pleased about that.

"A little, sir," he responded, "but we're your pilots for the morning. We thought we'd come early to say 'hello, and welcome back' before we escort you and President Roslin to the raptor." His lips curved slightly into a smile. "It's good to have you back with us, Admiral."

Adama nodded. "It's good to see you, too, captain." Turning to Sharon, his eyes warmed. "And you, as well, lieutenant. I'm told the two of you have been regular visitors."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Laura emerge from the head. Involuntarily, he turned to watch her. To his surprise, she'd put her hair up, which no doubt explained why she'd taken longer than usual to get ready. Walking toward them, he saw her glance flicker between Helo and Sharon and Kara. After she smiled a good morning at the trio, her gaze fell on him.

"If that's your uniform, Admiral, the head is all yours."

Resisting the urge to say something about her hair, and taking the hint that she wanted him ready on time, Bill stood and reached for the hangar holding his clothes. "I won't be long," he told his three visitors. His movements only slightly stiffer than normal, he went to change.

When he returned, the room's complement had increased by two. Looking at Lee and Saul in surprise, he walked over towards his bed and sat down on the edge of it. "I was expecting just one of you this morning," he said. "What's going on?"

"Everything's fine in CIC," Saul assured him quickly. "I left Gaeta in charge.And don't complain about the two of us: he'd hoped to come down and see you before you left, too, but I told him he'd have to join the crowd and wait his turn." In spite of the way Bill had pushed everyone away over the past months, there was little doubt as to his people's concern for him. Almost everyone was looking for excuses to come down to see the Admiral. Still unsure of how his commanding officer would react to that concern, but determined to hope for the best, Tigh was advising people to stay away and let the Admiral recover a bit more before visiting. "Dee says hello," he continued, "and says she'll be down later today. Tyrol sends his regards and asks if he and Cally can come visit tomorrow. They weren't sure whether to bring the kid or not. I said I'd ask."

Looking over at Lee, he didn't wait for an answer from Bill on 'the kid' thing before continuing, "Lee was coming anyway, but I figured we could both bring you up to date on what's been happening. You'll need to know everything you can before your talk with Valerant."

Bill nodded. "Tell the Chief that if Cottle allows it, their son is welcome." Briefly, he wondered why Lee had not given him the information about Dee's visit, but shoved the thought aside. Switching to a topic of more immediate concern, he asked, "So what happened overnight?"

Tigh's face took on a sour look. "We've got four more shuttles heading our way. Two from the _Prometheus_, one from the _Kimba Huta_, and another from the _Celestra_. And because people are worse than sheep, the _Rising Star _and the _Space Park _are busy loading up shuttles as we speak as well. No one can wait to get rid of their sick," he said, obviously disgusted. "Both the _Star_ and the _Park_ have large populations, so there's no telling how many people they'll have heading toward us. Sick or not, people are well and truly panicked. They're turning on each other like rabid dogs." He shook his head. "They're all idiots."

Sensing Laura's eyes on him, Bill turned to share a silent look of understanding with her. He didn't disagree with Saul, exactly, but as Laura had explained, there were mitigating circumstances causing the disturbing behaviours they were seeing. Hopefully, they'd be able to turn things around and provide enough reassurance to allow people the calm they needed in order to resume acting in a more reasoned manner.

"What about the shuttles already in formation with us?" he asked.

"They're holding as we requested, but I got a report just before I left to come here that says there are three dead on one of the shuttles from the _Faru Sadin_."

"Give it permission to board," Adama said quickly. "Just make sure Cottle knows what's happening." Ticking off items from his mental list, he asked, "What about DeCourt?"

This time, it was Lee who answered. "We still haven't tracked him down. He's just disappeared. We contacted all the ships he might have gone to and got nothing."

His father frowned. "Something's not right," he muttered. "I want you to have people keep looking, and I want to know the minute you hear anything."

Lee nodded and held out a sheaf of documents. "I've got the notes you requested on supply ships, manpower, and our scheduling."

Bill took the file folder and nodded his thanks. "I'll go over it on the shuttle. What about shuttle manifests? Anyone ask about those yet?"

Lee shook his head. "Things have been too crazy on board the shuttles for anyone to get around to doing them. People are just being rounded up and herded onboard. I don't think anyone's bothering with lists. No one cares who they're shipping, so long as they're gone."

From across the room, Roslin spoke for the first time. "People will be looking for word of their loved ones. If you could request passenger lists from each shuttle, perhaps my office could help with what happens after that." Turning to her aide, she said, "Tory, could you see to having someone take care of that? If we set up some sort of desk people can contact, it would be helpful." She turned to Tigh. "That will take some of the pressure off your people, or off Doctor Cottle's staff."

Saul rewarded her with a grudging nod. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Laura raised an eyebrow and her lips quirked. "High praise indeed, Colonel." She then turned to Tory and the two women began to speak in low tones, ironing out what would be done and how.

The update apparently over, Kara stepped closer and asked in a conspiratorial tone, "You sure you don't want me to drive, Admiral?"

Helo, who was standing to one side and talking in a low voice to Lee, looked up quickly. "Hey, Thrace, mind your business! Sharon and I are playing chauffeur. The goal is to get everyone there in one piece, remember."

Kara wrinkled her nose at him. "Just thought maybe they'd like to get there on time."

Adama looked at the two pilots with amusement. In spite of the situation, it felt good to be here, felt good, he realised with surprise, to be alive.

Looking at the people assembled in the room, he examined how he felt about them. It suddenly stuck him how fortunate he was...

A tightness inside him began to ease.

"I'm honoured by your concern," he told Kara in a dry tone, "but I'm sure Helo and Sharon will get us there safely. And, providing the good doctor shows up soon, we'll arrive on time, too."

-xxx-

The friendly argument between Kara and Helo, and Adama's gentle rejoinder to it, had drawn Tory's attention. Looking over at the group of uniformed men and women, she paused and then commented in a low tone, "They live in a completely different world, don't they?"

Laura looked at the tableau in front of her. The people who stood so comfortably talking with one another had been connected to each other - or at least to Bill - before the end of the world, and had struggled to support one another every step of the way since then. The connection between them and the man they looked to for guidance stood out in stark contrast to the temporary, temperamental alliances she was used to. They were, she thought, like family, but with a little more order...And no matter how bad things got, no matter how much they argued or disagreed, at the end of the day, they stood together.

Looking at the President, Tory waited expectantly for some sort of dry comment from her. She frowned slightly when she was met with only silence. Unable to identify the expression on Roslin's face as she regarded the group of men and women, she shrugged and looked back down at her clipboard.

-xxx-

A short time later, a raspy cough outside in the hallway heralded Cottle's arrival. Stepping into the room, he paused in surprise. After surveying the assembled group, he wondered what the hell his people had been doing letting them all in.

Colonel Tigh sat on the edge of Adama's bed, casually swinging one leg back and forth, his hands loosely clasped on his lap. Helo and Sharon Agathon stood to one side, nodding their heads at something Lee Adama was saying. Kara Thrace stood talking with Tory, who was sitting on the edge of the President's bed. In the small amount of floor space left available, Admiral Adama stood dressed in full uniform, looking almost as healthy and imposing as always. The President, slender and competent in one of her suits, stood beside him. Both seemed unaffected by the conversations flowing around them and were deep in a conversation of their own. That there were no drawn daggers between them anywhere in sight, he took as a good sign.

"What in the name of Hades is going on here?" he rasped.

Conversations stopped and everyone turned to look at him.

Roslin smiled into the silence that ensued. "The Admiral and I are just waiting for your permission to leave, Doctor," she said.

Cottle frowned. "That much I could figure out! I want to know why everyone _else_ is here!"

Looking a little sheepish, Helo said, "We thought it might be nice if we escorted the President and Admiral Adama to their shuttle."

Tigh frowned. "The Admiral had to be filled in on what took place overnight. I needed to see him to do that."

Cottle pursed his lips. "There are phones," he snorted. Turning to Lee, he didn't even have to ask before being told, "Same here. The Admiral needs to be filled in on everything that happened for his meeting this morning." Lee hesitated, then added more firmly, "I had a couple reports for him, too, and figured I'd wait and see him off..."

Kara's eyes sparkled when Cottle's eyes lit upon her. "Hey, I had to bring the Admiral his uniform. When everyone else showed up, and I guess I just forgot to leave."

The doctor shook his head and stepped towards his two patients. "I turn my back for one minute and everyone thinks they have an excuse for a party."

"We were going to invite you," Kara said, still grinning.

"Don't get smart," he warned. Looking at the assembled group, he groused, "How can I examine anyone with the bunch of you standing around? What do you think this is?"

Everyone looked at one another. "We can leave..." Kara said.

"Give the girl a cigar!" Cottle exclaimed, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "You most certainly can!"

But no one moved.

"Doctor, if you're only doing the usual, I don't mind them staying. It'll only take a minute."

Cottle glared at Adama. Ignoring his offer, he said, "I want everyone out in the hallway. Now!"

His tone brooked no argument, and everyone but Bill and Laura slowly moved towards the door.

When the others had left, he looked at the two remaining. They stood and regarded him silently, their shoulders almost, but not quite, touching. Standing ready, their military and civilian uniforms in place, the two looked nothing like the two people he had heard screaming at one another the night before. Nor, he thought, were they the two people wrapped in the silence afterward. Their defences back in place, their roles clear, they regarded him with steady eyes that belied all the turmoil that had been so devastatingly evident the night before.

He cleared his throat and waved one hand dismissively. "I don't need to examine either of you - you're both fine, so far as I can tell. Shouldn't be," he admitted grumpily, "but you're fine. All I want is a chance to have the last word before you leave, so here it is." He paused to make sure he had their undivided attention, then continued, "I want you to be damned careful out there. You pay attention to how you're feeling, and if anything - and I do mean _anything_ doesn't feel right, I want you to get back here asap so I can have a look at you. I'm sending a medic along for the ride, but he won't be with you when you're in your meeting, so I need you two to use a little sense." He hesitated, then lowered his voice somewhat. "Pay attention to each other - if one of you is too damned stupid or stubborn to admit to not feeling well and need to quit, I expect the other to notice and act accordingly. You've got to take care of each other, because there's no one else who can. Understood?"

Bill and Laura looked at one another, then turned to the doctor and nodded wordlessly.

"I'm serious," the doctor insisted, thinking they probably weren't getting the message. "I don't know what the hell's been going on between you two, but you need to get it ironed out. As leaders go, you're all we've got. We need you, and you need each other. Now get out of here. I'll see you when you get back."

With that, Cottle stood aside and let the two leaders walk past him and out the door.

End  
Chapter 25


	26. Perspectives

Sorry for the long, long delay. A timely nudge from She-Who-Kicks-Butt-Better-Than-Most got me moving. I've got three chapters finished, and the story's almost done.

I think.

**Disclaimer**: In case no one remembers: except for Meyes and Valerant and a few misc. bit players, none of the characters are mine - but I've been told I can play with them all I want. So I do.

Hey, it's fun...

**Recap**: Adama's awake from his coma. He's gotten to the point where he's accepted and may be even glad that he didn't die on Kobol, but he and Roslin still don't quite know what to do about each another. They're still stuck in the same room in Life Station, and still affected by the push/pull of their shared past, but a crisis is helping them avoid dealing with their own issues. The two are now on the_ Gideon_ in order to negotiate an end to a pilots' strike that's exacerbated troubles already present in the fleet caused by an out-of-control bacterial infection that's causing illness and death in a large portion of the populace. Thing is, Richard Valerant, the man the pilots have chosen to negotiate for them, is going to want them to examine a little more than just pilot demands...

* * *

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**Chapter 26**

**Perspectives **

The Admiral looked at Helo and raised one shaggy eyebrow.

"You're coming too?" he asked.

Maintaining pace with his CO as they walked away from the raptor and deeper into the bowels of the _Gideon_, Helo explained, "You're Admiral of the Fleet, you're accompanied by the President of the Twelve Colonies, and you're visiting an unsecured civilian ship to talk with a man who has instigated a strike that is creating serious, fleet-wide problems. Yes, sir, I'm coming too, sir." He'd done some swift talking to dissuade Sharon from joining them, too. Only noting that she needed to stay with the raptor to make sure that it remained secure had kept her behind.

"The President's security team wouldn't have sufficed for both of us?" Adama protested mildly.

Helo just stared at him stubbornly and continued to walk beside him.

The Admiral recognised the set of the captain's mouth. "I guess not," he answered himself in a dry tone. "In that case, captain, I appreciate your company. Always good to know you have my back."

Helo's lips quirked upward. "Any time, sir."

Adama nodded. Helo Agathon was a good man. His thought processes were simple, direct, and, in the grand scheme of things, always eventually ended up evaluating one thing: was it right, or wrong? At the moment, he obviously felt that it was right to provide an escort, no matter that there were enough people in the President's detail to more than take care of both himself and said President.

The two men lapsed into companionable silence. Behind them, they could hear the footfalls of Roslin's rear security guard. Ahead of them, they could hear the President's voice as she replied to comments made by the pilot Valerant had sent to escort them to their meeting place. Idly, Adama wondered if she'd noticed how quickly he'd fallen back and out of range of the shower of inane small talk the man had begun as soon as they'd started walking.

As though reading his thoughts, she took that moment to turn her head and give him a look designed to make strong men quail.

He allowed himself a moment's satisfaction.

_She noticed_.

-xxx-

Eventually, their small group drew to a stop in front of a hatch. Adama moved forward to stand beside Roslin. Their guide opened the hatchway and gestured for the two leaders to step inside.

Roslin hesitated. Though her advance detail had just assured her that the room was secure, and though she knew that her bodyguards would be just outside, she wasn't certain she liked Bill's easy agreement to meet with Valerant alone. She glanced at him as he automatically passed through the entryway before her and took up position just inside the entrance. His face revealed nothing, so she had no idea what he thought about having been met by an intermediary upon their arrival rather than by Valerant himself. In politics, that action would have said much, and none of it good.

She sighed. Bill didn't appear concerned.

But then again, he rarely did.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, her heel clumsily caught on the lip of the hatch as she stepped through it. Quickly, Bill reached out to stop her fall. They both paused, surprised by the unexpected, familiar contact.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, and he slowly released her. Regaining her poise, she moved away from his touch and further into the room.

The lights from several wall sconces revealed a gloomy space obviously reserved for small meetings such as this. A table stood in the middle of the room with three glasses and a carafe of what she supposed was water resting on its scarred top. A man she assumed to be Richard Valerant stood behind it. He appeared to be somewhere in his early forties, and had wiry, dark hair cut fairly short. Large, tired brown eyes set under thick, straight eyebrows observed them intently. As she and the Admiral stepped towards him, a smile eased his worn features and he walked around the table to meet them.

"Madame President, Admiral Adama," he said in greeting, "Thank you for agreeing to meet here." Confirming his identity, he reached out a calloused hand and said in a firm voice, "I'm Richard Valerant." When they were finished shaking hands, he gestured toward the table and said, "Please, take a seat."

While the Admiral saw to Roslin's chair and then seated himself, Valerant moved to the other side of the table. "I apologise for not meeting you when you arrived," he said as he settled into his chair.

Though he did not offer a reason for his breach of protocol, his apology sounded sincere. Continuing her appraisal of the pilot, Roslin decided that he didn't immediately strike her as a firebrand who incited strikes and civil unrest. Though obviously not lacking in self-confidence, his voice and demeanor were surprisingly polite and unassuming. Still, he had been chosen by the pilots to speak for them, so there were obviously facets of his personality yet to be revealed. She watched with interest as he and Bill regarded one another steadily. To her surprise, she got the impression that they were both reassured by what they saw.

Bill cleared his throat, and she turned her attention toward him. They had agreed that he'd carry the conversation, as he'd requested the meeting in the first place. The purpose for having herself present would unfold however Valerant chose.

"Mr. Valerant," Bill said, "I'm sure you'll understand if we get right down to the business of why I asked to speak with you."

Valerant gestured with one hand. "I have to say I was surprised it was _you_ who asked," he said. Sliding a glance towards Roslin, he returned his gaze to Adama and continued, "I wasn't certain who would contact me after Vice President Zarek's departure. I was expecting someone perhaps with piloting experience, and hopefully someone with a..." He hesitated. After making an obvious mental search for a diplomatic word, he finished, "..._less troubled_...history. You," he admitted honestly, "weren't on my list of possibilities. Not that you don't fit," he hastened to add, "but under the circumstances, I wouldn't have expected the military to be involved so quickly, and certainly not at your level. It's still a civilian problem, after all."

Laura bit her lip. After Valerant's comment about Zarek, she knew damned well Bill wanted to shoot her an '_I told you so' _look. _A terrorist and a crook,_ he'd called the Vice President when objecting to the choice of him as a negotiator. Perhaps he was right, but still...better the devil you knew...

His face impossible to read, Adama refrained from commenting on the Vice President, however, and responded to the pilot's assertion that the problem they were dealing with was a civilian one.

"There are times and places," he said, "where the line between military and civilian interests is somewhat blurred. Since the cylon attack and our exodus from Caprica, I think it's safe to say that military and civilian interests are increasingly one and the same."

Valerant frowned. "But the difficulties between you and the President seem to indicate that the two interests are, by definition, diametrically opposed. In fact, since New Caprica, rumour has it that the two most important people in our power structure have avoided one another and barely spoken."

Roslin could see her own surprise at Valerant's blunt comment mirrored in the way Bill's eyes temporarily widened. Recovering quickly, however, he turned to look at her a moment. She could have sworn she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes before he returned his gaze to Valerant and said in a gruff tone, "_Obviously_ an exaggeration."

Unswayed, Valerant said, "My sources are reliable, so I don't think so. It's why I insisted that if I were going to speak with one of you, I had to speak to you both. I can't have an agreement with one of you fall apart because the other decides not to uphold what's been negotiated."

Roslin watched as Valerant's insistence he was right made Adama observe the pilot more closely. He then paused and looked down at his hands. Few of the battles he and she had fought were secret, but she felt relief when Bill appeared to feel no need to account to this particular man for anything either of them had said or done. Instead, he looked up and held the pilot's gaze firmly.

"Different circumstances require different courses of action. For the moment, my-" He stopped abruptly and, after shooting a look at her, amended,_ "_For the moment, _our_ primary concern is to get supplies out to the civilian fleet and to defuse the potentially disastrous situation that's fomenting. I don't need to describe the state of emergency that we'll be faced with if this strike continues."

Valerant sat back in his chair. Obviously having analysed the situation and plotted out a sequence of debating points, he said, "If the strike continues, you'll be faced with the prospect of being asked by the government to take on the responsibility of civilian supply runs in addition to defending the fleet. You also have a number of shuttles filled with hundreds of people requesting sanctuary on the _Galactica_ because they've been forced to leave their own ships. Considering the manpower shortage we're experiencing, I'm sure it's an unpleasant situation for you to be in."

Roslin drew a quick breath and clenched her fists. _Unpleasant? _She shot a look at Bill. She knew how short of pilots he was; knew the stress he had borne on a daily basis because he had to protect the fleet with a too small, overtired flight crew. Valerant, she decided, was far too cavalier about the 'responsibility' that she would be forced to ask the Admiral to assume if this meeting didn't work something out. Add to that the people - the sick and dying people - being forced from their ships and sent out into the fleet with no other refuge but _Galactica_, and there were unspeakable pressures on him. She stifled an angry exclamation and glared at the man sitting across the table. He had the _nerve_ to speak of the situation as being merely _unpleasant_...

Unable to remain quiet, she broke into the conversation.

"It's more than _unpleasant_, Mr. Valerant. It can and will cost lives we can't afford to lose! Our defences are already stretched to the breaking point - it's not, after all, just _civilian_ pilots that have been lost or put out of rotation because of the bacterial infection. To ask the military to assume civilian supply runs when they're already running undermanned CAP shifts would have disastrous results if the cylons appear. And to be forced into the situation where we increase the number of people sick and dying of the contagion on the very ship that is our only defence against the cylons is untenable!" She caught Bill's surprised glance of warning, and subsided slightly. "What is it you really want?" she asked in a slightly quieter tone. "What do you hope to accomplish by creating a situation like this?"

Valerant didn't answer her. Instead, he turned an appraising looked at Adama. "This is obviously one of those times when the military and civilian leaders are in agreement."

Adama hesitated, then admitted honestly, "Not exactly. Taking over the supply routes is not something I consider desirable, and it's my hope we can work something out with you today that will enable me to avoid it. In regards to the shuttles, one from the _Aurora_ has already been docked; another has probably entered our landing pod by now."

The pilot frowned in surprise. "You allowed them to board? I thought that might just be rumour. You had presidential permission to do so?"

"It was a military decision."

Valerant's eyes bounced between the man and woman sitting across from him. The President had provided all the arguments he'd expected to hear from the Admiral. The last thing he'd expected to hear from Adama was that he had allowed the shuttles onboard. He shook his head. Gathering his thoughts into order again, he said, "So, though I don't even begin to understand why you're taking the positions you're taking, it appears military and civilian interests are once again at odds."

"Not at all," Adama said smoothly. "Our interests are the same; it is only our perception of which methods should be used to further our interests that differ."

Surprised at this adept parry, Laura settled back in her chair.

Valerant nodded as though finally hearing what he needed to hear. "And again, that is precisely why I asked that both of you be present today," he said. "As leaders of the two most important parts of our power structure, I'm concerned about the rumours that are going around. It's no secret you often disagree, nor is it a secret that when you don't agree, you're more apt to do something behind each other's back than you are to sit down and openly deal with it. That creates a problem for me: I've got people trusting me to take care of their best interests. That means I need to know that what we agree on today will be upheld after I leave this room." He paused, then added bluntly, "By both of you."

"You don't trust us?" Adama asked.

There was a tinge of frustration in his expression when Valerant responded.

"Gods - you don't trust _each other_. Why would_ I _trust either of _you_?"

-xxx-

Lee stood in his office and stared at the ensign in front of him. "Frak! Are you sure?" Lee asked.

The ensign nodded. "Look for yourself, sir."

Lee took the proffered manifest and read the name on the list the young man's finger indicated.

He looked up. "Anyone spoken to him yet?"

The ensign stepped back and shook his head. "No, sir. All I know is his name is on the list."

"What the hell was he doing on that shuttle?"

The ensign looked uncomfortable. Noticing the young man's unease, Lee sighed. "That was a purely rhetorical question, ensign, I'm not expecting an answer." Deciding to put the man out of his misery, he dismissed him, saying. "Thank you, that was good work. You may return to your duties, now."

Stepping into the office as the ensign departed, Kara Thrace made an unannounced entrance. She gave the ensign a curious glance, then looked at Lee.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I think we've found Jason DeCourt," he said.

She frowned, then remembered who DeCourt was. Her eyes widened. "That's good news," she said. "The Old Man's been worried."

"Guess where we found him."

"Life's too short to spend it guessing. Tell me," she said dryly.

"The shuttle Dad just ordered we allow onboard. We asked that a passenger manifest be drawn up before we took them to quarantine. The ensign who just left noticed the name and brought my attention to it."

"Smart nugget," Kara smiled. "You send word to your father yet? He said he wanted to know right away."

"He's still on the _Gideon_."

She shrugged. "He said he wanted to know as soon as there was news. You can get word to him there. He was worried. Who knows? It might help with the negotiations. It'll at least make him feel better."

_Not, _Lee thought, _if DeCourt's dying_.

He looked at Kara. "Or not," he said. "Remember where we found him."

Kara put both hands up in surrender. "I'd tell him as soon as I could, is all I'm saying." She paused a moment, pretending to look at an object on one of the wall shelves.

Knowing there was something brewing, Lee allowed her some silence.

Finally, she said in a quiet voice, "Should we try to do something, Lee?"

He looked over at her, a crease forming between his brows. The sudden change in her tone and manner told him this was something important, and something that she had thought about for a while. Tension grew in the air between them and he felt his heart thump as he asked in a low voice, "Do something about what, Kara?"

"About _them_. They-" She hesitated, then continued, "They're awfully unhappy. But I don't think he's so mad at her anymore. Maybe there's something we could do to-"

Lee tuned her out. _So this was why she had dropped by. _He clenched his jaw. _Why were all the women in his life always so frakking concerned about his father?_ Inhaling tightly, he stifled a wave of frustration. The fleet was in a state of crisis, and here was Kara, using her time and energy to worry about his father's _emotional_ life. _Again!_ Shaking his head, he spoke over her words and said, "Oh, no. Don't go there, Kara. We've had this conversation before, remember? It wasn't our business on Kobol, and it's none of our business now. You're as bad as Dee."

Something flickered in her eyes at the mention of his wife, but it was quickly gone. She gave him a cocky smile that only faltered slightly. "Way to hurt my feelings," she said. Sobering, she continued, "It's just that he deserves some happiness, don't you think? Maybe there's something we can do to help them get back to where they were when they both seemed happy. I mean, we've done a lot of things for the President that have caused wrinkles in their relationship. Maybe it's time we tried to figure out a way of doing something that ironed things out a bit."

"And maybe we should just keep our noses out of it," Lee said in a short tone. "Besides, you're leaving an important person out of the equation, aren't you? How do you know _she's_ even interested?"

Kara took his question as a positive sign. Remembering what she had witnessed on Kobol, and the way the President's arms had wrapped themselves around Adama, she told him, "She's interested, trust me." She hesitated, then said, "I think they need each other, Lee. Life isn't great at the moment. Hell, it hasn't been great for a long time. They don't have other people they can turn to. It's hard to be alone; to be alone in their positions must be awful."

"He's not alone. He has us. He has his crew."

Kara smiled. "It's not the same, and you know it."

He remained stubbornly adamant. "I don't want anything to do with it. He'd kill us if he even knew we knew."

Kara smiled, knowing that in spite of himself, he was considering it. "I'll let you know if I think of something. It would be nice," she said in a wistful tone, "to get back to the way things were." She held his eyes with her own and waited a beat. When Lee didn't respond, she covered her sadness by looking at the wall time piece.

"And now I have to go. I'm on CAP, remember."

He watched her leave. _Just like her_, he thought. _Make him think and then leave him alone with the thoughts_. He looked at the phone, wondering if he should interrupt his father's meeting with Valerant.

He sighed, and slowly reached for the receiver.

-xxx-

Cottle leaned over his desk and hung up the phone with a bang. "Damnedest excuses I've ever heard."

Standing to his left, Dana Meyes continued checking off medic reports she had piled on the cluttered top of his office's filing cabinets. She didn't turn around as she asked, "The tests haven't been done?"

"I don't think they even remembered they had them to do."

She shrugged and closed another file. "They've been busy."

Cottle frowned. She had a point, but he wasn't in the mood for logic. "I told them to send the samples back to me and I'd do them myself."

At this, Meyes turned. "Like you don't have enough to do," she scolded.

"I need the results. Roslin is threatening to leave Life Station, and I want the tests done before she actually does. And I hate to admit it, but if _he_ starts whining about leaving, I don't really have too big a case for making him stay much longer, either."

Suspecting she knew the reason for his concern in regard to their amazing recoveries, she understood his wanting the tests done before releasing them. "You know that if you need help, I'm here," she told him. Opening a new file, she looked at him and asked, "What did they say about the drug trials?"

"They're going fine. So far, it looks as though what they've developed is pretty universal - it looks like it stops 'em from dying if they've been infected, and stops 'em from getting infected if they're exposed to it."

"That's wonderful!" she smiled. She paused, then added in a dry tone, "I suppose this is no time to ask questions about test group size and length of study."

He snorted. "Damned right it's not the time. We can't waste lives by being thorough. I think we can only go another twenty-four hours or so and we're going to have to start doling it out to fleet. We're damned lucky that because the infection is so quick to start we can observe the effects of the inoculation just as quickly. Roberts is doing his damnedest to produce the stuff as quickly as possible."

"There's going to be pandemonium once the announcement's been made," Meyes warned.

Cottle nodded. "Everyone and their mother is going to have a case for their getting it ahead of everyone else. All we can do is try our best to keep people orderly."

Feeling tired just at the thought, Meyes closed her eyes. Opening them again, she noticed the time and straightened. "When is President Roslin and the Admiral due back?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm hoping not long from now. An hour or so, maybe."

"You said the President wants out of Life Station?"

"That's what she said this morning. It appears the joy of seeing Adama awake has worn off pretty quick."

Dana's disappointment was evident. "I don't think I understand them at all," she said sadly.

Cottle grunted. "Join the crowd._ They_ don't understand themselves, either." He hesitated, then said in a softer tone, "I'm going to be honest, Meyes. No matter what they decide to do about whatever it is that's going on between them, it's going to be a disaster. I'm beginning to think that denying themselves a relationship would be pretty devastating to them in a number of ways. On the other hand, I don't think they can have a relationship and still lead the fleet the way they have been. I don't think people would accept it."

As expected, Meyes glared at him.

"That's silly," she said in a sharp tone. "Who else would lead the fleet if they didn't? You think people are prepared to vote for Baltar again? You think Zarek and the company _he_ keeps fills anyone with reassurance? How many of his thuggish buddies would come along for the ride? And name _one_ other Quorum member you'd want leading us anywhere!" She shook her head. "The military's in no better shape. Who'd _you_ want in charge? Certainly not Tigh. There's Adama Junior, but he's not ready yet, and maybe he doesn't even _want_ the job. So whether or not President Roslin and Admiral Adama are involved or not, they're still our best hope for survival. I think people know that."

The doctor shook his head. Leaning back into his chair, he rested his arms on the arm rests and swung his feet up onto his desk. "The ones who think for themselves, maybe. The rest of the idiots out there only know and believe whatever piece of crap they've just heard on the wireless, and you know the press would have a field day if they thought the President and the Admiral were involved. They only deal in dirt and dissension, and if there's a way of raking some up, they're in there like jackals on a carcass. Bill and Roslin wouldn't stand a chance. We'd have written reports of how one of them influenced the other every time a decision got made."

Meyes shook her head. With a slight, dismissive motion that told Cottle she was losing her patience with him, she said, "I don't think whether they wake up in the morning in the same bed or in two different ones really makes a lot of difference in what they see as important or in how they feel the fleet should be led. They've been nothing but determined to do whatever needs to be done to ensure our survival. Would that change because they have sex? Would one suddenly stop thinking for themselves and mindlessly follow whatever the other said?" She waved her hands impatiently. "They're _adults_! Besides," she added in a wistful tone, "the way things are I don't think there's harm in accepting companionship when it's there for the taking."

Cottle didn't disagree, but he didn't hold out much hope that people would take it as pragmatically as she. Both lapsed into silence, and he watched as she turned and opened up one of the filing cabinet drawers. Picking up a file, she began to flip through the tabs with practiced ease, looking for a place to put it. The right place for the file found, she slipped it in and closed the file drawer. Straightening her shoulders, she turned. The look on her face told him she wasn't finished with the Adama/Roslin thing.

"We're not living in normal circumstances, Jack," she said. "We don't have a large number of experienced, willing, and able people to lead us. Nor do we have the luxury of having a large number of people from which to find someone to love. _They _are what we have for leaders - and they've been doing all right so far, all things considered. If they've also discovered that they care for each other, then I think they should be able to without worry of repercussions."

Cottle sighed. She'd make a great campaign manager if they ever needed one. And, though he hated to admit it, he was beginning to think she was preaching to the choir. "You may be right," he said, "and in a perfect world, that would be great, but you know damned well that nothing is that easy any more. You mark my words: if it ever leaks out that they're involved - and I say _if_, because I'm not sure what the frak is going on with them at the moment - but if they are, and word leaks out, there'll be hell to pay."

Meyes didn't respond. Cottle could be a sonofabitch and a total cynic, but she had come to know and understand what lay beneath his gruff exterior.

He was worried, and that was never a good sign.

End  
Chapter 26

Thanks for stopping by to read. And again, my apologies - I hope the recap help orientate everyone again...


	27. Rail

GrammarMaven, I promised, so here it is... a quick update! Donna, you're going to smile when you get near to the end of this; your wait is almost over...Sandy: it'll take a while longer to find out if you're right...But knowing you, you are...

Many thanks to those still reading and who take the time to let me know you're still out there! It had been so long I wasn't sure there'd still be an interest. Author insecurity...it's a terrible thing...

**Disclaimer**: Nothing's changed. _sigh_

Happy Monday...

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**Chapter 27**

**Rail **

"_Gods...You don't trust _each other_; why would _I _trust either of _you_?"_

Valerant paused to watch Roslin and Adama exchange glances once again. Neither of them had been quite what he'd expected; nor had they acted as he'd thought they might. It didn't take a genius, however, to see that although they didn't appear to be feuding, they were definitely very aware of one another.

He didn't know if that were a good thing or a bad thing.

He sighed inwardly, wishing that his missing brother-in-law were here to help him decipher the two people sitting across from him. Jason DeCourt had never made any attempt to hide his admiration for either of them, but he'd also had a keen eye for character, and Valerant would have appreciated his honest insights. Everyone had heard of the changes in both leaders. Would Jason still have described Adama as a hard-ass with a heart? Would he still have regarded Roslin as a woman hell-bent on ensuring the survival of the human race no matter the cost?

Lately, his brother-in-law hadn't said much about them, and even when asked, he'd seemed reluctant to speak. _"I dunno...Being back together has been a difficult adjustment for everyone; I guess they're no different," _was the closest he'd come to saying they'd changed.

Jason hadn't been his only source of information on the two leaders, however. Rumour after rumour had raced through the fleet about the disturbing change in the Admiral and the coldness between him and the President. And rumour after rumour had reached him about dissention, lack of communication, and the creation and carrying out of plans with no consultation between the two leaders.

The rumours alone would have been cause for concern, but then the Admiral had left for Kobol in search of his son and Kara Thrace. And then the President had quickly followed. Tumbling along with those events had been the eruption of the bacterial infection, a series of jumps _away_ from their leaders, and the ensuing pilot unrest.

Now their leaders were returned, and he was charged with settling things for the pilots. It was a job he took seriously, and because he was a thinking man, a job he approached in a thorough manner. He'd come up with his own theory as to why the fleet had reacted to this series of crises the way it had; why, even, the pilots had reacted in the way they had. Today, he would confront the President and Admiral with it.

When Adama and Roslin finally turned from each other and looked back at him, he drew a deep breath and launched into his attack.

"The way I see it, the difficulty I have in negotiating anything with you is pretty much indicative of the problem the whole fleet is having with its leadership at the moment."

He looked directly at Adama. "We've trusted you with our lives since the beginning, sir. Even when things were at their worst on New Caprica, we knew you'd come back to rescue us, and you didn't let us down. But since then, something's gone wrong. We heard rumours you'd changed, but a couple of weeks ago you turned your back on us and left. No warning, no explanation - and if rumour has it right, with no intention of returning." Sensing Roslin's shocked surprise at his last comment, he changed his position slightly and without giving either of them time to respond, said to her, "And a couple of hours later, you followed him! We had the two most important people in the fleet chasing around on a planet we already know exacts too high a price on those who return! And then," he said, his voice gathering in speed and volume, "the entire fleet jumped and _left you both behind_!" He swept a hand towards Bill. "On_ your _orders! That sort of thing doesn't fill people with confidence. What are we supposed to expect from you? Rumours are all over the fleet about what's going on at the top, and none of them are good. And this last explout almost got the two of you killed. Have you never stopped to think about the consequences of some of the things you do?" He shook his head. "The fleet is a mess right now, but it's because the people no longer trust their leadership."

Adama face was a stony mask, and there was no mistaking his displeasure when he moved to speak.

Unconsciously, Valerant held his breath.

"Mr. Valerant," the Admiral said in a quiet, dangerous rumble, "you are over-stepping your bounds. These are not issues on the table for discussion. We are here to deal with a very real and immediate crisis that's far more relevant to the fleet's well-being. I suggest you keep your focus on that."

Richard Valerant shook his head and bravely ignored the warning in Adama's tone. "This is relevant. This is _very_ relevant," he said stubbornly. Like every other person in the fleet, he'd had his life torn apart when the cylons attacked the home worlds. Since then, he'd done everything possible to create stability and hope for himself and his new family. Unable to trust in a future that was uncertain, he struggled to maintain faith in the present - and in his leaders.

He took a deep breath. "The morale of the entire fleet is in shambles," he told them, "and the responsibility for that lies in your hands. The fleet may have been reunited, but our leadership hasn't. In all appearances, it's fractured and untrustworthy. You've asked me to negotiate with you. First I need to be convinced that I can trust you."

Finished, he sat back and waited for a reaction.

-xxx-

The silence that followed Valerant's speech lengthened almost unbearably as Adama struggled with his temper. A roil of anger coursed through him, making him want to stand up and toss a chair, to roar at the pilot until he was cowed. How _dare_ he pass judgement? How _dare_ he suggest that trust-

He stopped when he thought the word.

_Trust_.

Some of his anger ebbed. Moving past the shock of the man's blatant audacity, he was forced to take pause. There was a ring of truth running alongside the temerity of the pilot's words that he didn't like hearing, an echo of his own all-too-familiar plaint of living with trust betrayed. Feeling Laura's gaze, he turned as realisation struck him. The loss of trust had gone far deeper than just between him and her; it had spread further than just between him and those he had held close. Their actions - their _reactions_ - had created harmful repercussions throughout the fleet.

"Trust."

He said the word softly, with meaning.

She held his eyes with hers, but remained silent. Looking into their emerald depths, however, he found what he was looking for.

_Regret. Understanding.  
_

Trust had been broken on any number of levels.

It needed reapair._  
_  
It was that simple; it was that complicated.

Changes would need to be made, and the changes would need to start with them. They would have to move forward.

Thinking of the ships that idled in formation around_ Galactica _and the citizens who peopled them, he sighed inwardly.

_They had no choice._

Finally, he looked at Valerant. His voice low, he said, "Mr. Valerant, we understand your concerns, but I honestly can't speak to them, except to say that the President and I _are_ talking and will _continue_ to talk. Though the incident concerning Kobol was unfortunate, it served a purpose we cannot at this point address." He paused at the mention of Kobol and looked at Laura with dark eyes.

Memory flickered, then failed.

He shifted heavily in his chair and winced slightly in response to a sudden, sharp stab of pain that lanced across his temple. Resisting the urge to press his fingers against his forehead, he forced himself to focus and continued, "I assure you that the President and I are committed to the Fleet. It's our priority." Inhaling abruptly, he said, "And I have to ask you to trust that now that the President and I are back you will see the kind of changes you feel are necessary. Right now, though, the crisis we have to deal with involves your pilots. The President and I are both here because we need them flying. You and the other civilian pilots are the fleet's lifeline."

Roslin chimed in softly. "Admiral Adama and I are here together, asking for your help to get things in the fleet back on track. Surely that's a solid indication that we're working together."

Valerant sat wordlessly for a moment.

Nothing the Admiral had said explained anything about the choppy leadership of late...but his instincts wanted him to take them at their word. He looked at them, trying to assess their position. As the President had pointed out, they were both here, and they were certainly communicating, though perhaps more by looks than by words. Whatever, it was a step in the right direction. He'd done what he could to shed light of the problem. Now it was up to them. Praying to the gods he wasn't being played for a fool, he slowly inclined his head and gathered his last remaining shreds of trust about him. 

"Then let's talk about the pilots," he agreed.

-xxx-

Adama nodded his thanks. Raising fingers to his forehead, he gently massaged his temple for a brief second, then leaned forward and rested his arms on the table in front of him. His gravelly voice was tightly restrained and conveyed his sense of urgency when he said, "We need to fix this situation quickly. To do that, we need to get things back to normal. If you could outline the pilots' concerns..."

He slowly sat back as Valerant outlined his agenda. Most of the demands dovetailed with what the pilots were going to be offered and sounded more than reasonable; some items would need to be rejected as out of hand. When the younger man was finished speaking, Roslin asked a question, and all three settled more deeply into working out an agreement.

The dull throb that had settled behind Adama's eyeballs increased in intensity, and he reached for a drink of water.

End  
Chapter 27


	28. Redress

Sorry for the delay in posting this one, but for a number of reasons, I've decided to end this story sooner as opposed to later. To accommodate that, I needed to change this chapter and then make the corresponding changes to what I'd written earlier this week for chapter 29. I didn't want to post this until I knew that all the loose ends meshed okay. I hope they do. Once I've got chapter 30 finished and everything feels appropriately tied up, I'll post the rest of the story.

Thanks as always to those of you still reading, and to those reviewing, an extra, heart-felt thank you. You've brightened my days and I appreciate it! Writing this has been a challenge and a pleasure and I've enjoyed the conversations it's engendered!

**Disclaimer**: Like I said before, nothing's changed. Especially not the pleasure I derive from playing with these wonderful, intriguing characters...

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx- **

**Chapter 28**

**Redress **

Helo watched as a young man in orange workman's overalls strode towards him.

"Are you Captain Agathon?" he asked. When Helo nodded, the man said, "A call's been routed through for the Admiral. He can take it over there." With a wave of his hand, he indicated a phone receiver a few metres further down the corridor.

Helo glanced at the closed hatchway.

"The Admiral's still inside. He can't be disturbed."

Uncaring, the man shrugged a well-muscled shoulder and nodded his head in the direction of the phone.

"Go tell _them_ that."

As the man turned and left, Helo walked over to the phone and lifted the receiver. "This is Captain Agathon. I understand there's a message for the Admiral?"

Lee Adama's familiar voice soon came over the line. "Helo. I think we've found Jason DeCourt. The Admiral wanted to know as soon as we got word."

Helo's eyes widened. He'd gotten to know DeCourt a little during their months orbiting New Caprica. As CAG, he'd often visited the Admiral's quarters, and more times than not it had been DeCourt standing guard at the door. He'd heard the young marine had gone missing, but hadn't known the Admiral was keeping tabs on the search for him.

"Where is he?"

"On the shuttle we just brought onboard."

Helo frowned. "He's sick?"

"I suppose so, if he's on one of the shuttles."

"You haven't seen him?"

He heard Lee pause, then say, "That's next."

"I'll tell the Admiral as soon as he comes out of the meeting. He'll be glad to at least know where he is."

"They're still meeting?" Lee's voice held surprise.

"Yeah," Helo replied in a low tone.

"I hope it's not for much longer. Cottle didn't want him to overdo it." Lee stopped speaking, and Helo heard a voice in the background and a muffled reply. When Lee again spoke into the receiver, he said, "I've got to go. One of the nuggets just made a good-sized dent in the docking bay. Make sure Dad gets the news about DeCourt. It'll make his day." He paused, then asked, "He's okay, right?"

Helo hesitated. He'd observed the Old Man carefully during their walk to the meeting room. Although his stubborn determination to do what he believed needed to be done.was obviously undiminished, the Admiral's movements had been slightly off, and he'd held himself carefully as he'd strode through the corridors. The Old Man, Helo decided, wasn't himself yet, but he gave a damned good performance - and it was that performance, he knew, that he'd want relayed to his son.

"Yeah, he seemed fine," Helo said.

When he heard the relief in Lee's thanks, he felt glad he hadn't said more.

Hanging up the receiver, he looked at the door thoughtfully. It wasn't something important enough to disturb them about, but he remembered Adama mentioning DeCourt was Valerant's brother-in-law. He'd make sure the Admiral had the news before he left, so he could pass on the information to Valerant himself.

-xxx-

Adama winced as he again moved in search of a comfortable position. This time, he gave in to the need to remove his glasses and massage the area between his eyes.

It gave him no relief.

Not for the first time, Roslin looked at him with concern. In the past thirty minutes, there had been several subtle indications that he wasn't feeling well. Making a decision, she said, "I think it's time we finished, Admiral. Whatever details we have left to cover can be dealt with by others."

Knowing that Cottle's warning had prompted this, he shook his head. "I'm fine," he said in a low tone. Looking at Valerant, he ignored the sharp throbbing in his temple, put his glasses on, and slid a file across the table. "Here's the information on the pilots and the time they're available. Once you've determined where you can best use them, contact my CAG. He'll arrange to have my pilots where you want them, when you want them. They-"

He stopped abruptly and stiffened.

_Darkness and rain and cold wet rock._

Valerant and Roslin both waited for him to continue. When he didn't, Roslin reached out her hand. Pressing on his arm, she said, "Admiral?"

For one long heartbeat, he didn't answer.

_A scream of warning and her body flying in front of him. Flashes of yellow. An exclamation. Laura. Gods...Laura, no..._

She rose. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she shook it slightly. "Bill."

His eyes closed and he pulled a ragged breath of air into his lungs and let it out heavily.

_Her body thrown against his; pain ripping though him._

Unsettled by having his mind in two places at once, he rasped, "I'm okay."

_She'd done it on purpose. Oh, gods..._

His hand reached up to cover hers. Trying to anchor himself, he concentrated on the warmth of her skin beneath his palm. "I'm okay," he repeated.

_On purpose..._

Keeping hold of her hand, he brought it down to rest on his thigh while jagged shards of memory flashed across his mind.

_Gods, it hurt..._

Kneeling beside him, she ignored how tightly he held her hand and turned frantic eyes towards Valerant. "Call my escort. He needs to get back to _Galactica."_

_He is sandwiched between the hard, cold ground and her soft, warm body. Rain falls into his eyes. He can feel it make its way down the sides of his head, tickling slightly as it slides through his hair. _

She looked at Bill, green eyes darkened in worry. "Gods, I shouldn't have waited so long," she muttered. "He shouldn't have-" She stopped and took a deep, calming breath. Noticing that Valerant was still staring at them, she ordered, "Please. Get my detail. We brought a medic. He needs to get in here."

_He hears her say, "I'm sorry."_

Shaken from his shocked inaction, Valerant nodded and quickly went to the door.

_She says his name, and he wants to tell her he loves her..._

-xxx-

By the time Agathon, the medic, and the President's people had rushed into the room, the memories had stopped their cacophonous onslaught and his thoughts were once again anchored in the present. His head throbbed dully, however, and he badly wanted to close his eyes. His job not yet finished, he ignored both his desire to rest and the obviously overwhelmed medic who checked his pulse with trembling hands. Forcing his mind to think clearly, he asked Valerant, "Are you satisfied with what we've arranged? Is there anything more you need?"

Valerant nodded, his concerns now less focussed on pilots and more on the man sitting in front of him. "I'm satisfied, yes."

"Bill," Laura said, "if there's more, he can contact us on _Galactica_. We've got to get you back."

Unwilling to lose physical contact with him, she stood close to him with her hand resting on his shoulder.

He looked up at her as the medic undid his uniform top to better listen to his heart. He knew he ought to be shrugging off the attention and insisting that they finish their meeting properly, but an odd lethargy had enveloped him...

"I'm okay." He protested weakly. "It's just a headache..."

_And the return of a memory that had shaken him to the core._

"We need to talk," he said.

_Talk?_

The non sequitur surprised her, but she nodded.

"Whenever you want," she said.

-xxx-

Sitting down heavily in one of the raptor's passenger seats, Bill warned Agathon with a glare not to even attempt to help with his safety restraints. Reaching up, he pulled them on and secured the clasps in preparation for leaving. He felt better now; the just-walked-out-of-the-water heaviness that enveloped him after his memory's return had lifted quickly after a moment's rest and a drink of water. The roaring pain in his temples had dulled to a manageable, pulsating throb.

"He was an opinionated sonofabitch," he muttered to Laura under his breath.

Amusement softened some of the worry in her eyes. Knowing he was talking about Valerant, she took the seat next to him and said, "You liked him, though."

He nodded. "He's experienced, he's honest, and he'll get the pilots back."

Now over some of the disgruntlement he'd felt at the man's outspokenness, he gave her a sideways glance and added dryly, "Doesn't appear to be afraid of speaking his mind, either."

Laura began to manipulate her own restraints. Leaning back in her seat when she was finished, she obeyed his unspoken request that they continue to talk about anything but his health and what had happened to him in the meeting room. Softly, she muttered, "There was a time or two I had difficulty not speaking _my_ mind. Honest is fine, but he was a little _too_ honest for my liking - the man could take a lesson or two in tact, don't you think? Gods, he was sure of himself! _And_ he knew far more than he should have! Where in Hades did he get all his information?" Her voice calmed a little when she added, "He did seem glad to hear about his brother-in-law, though."

Smiling inwardly at her waspish reaction to Valerant's bluntness, he nodded. "I'm glad we had the news to give."

She glanced at him. The news about DeCourt had truly pleased Bill. William Adama got attached to the people around him even if he didn't allow himself to get close. She didn't quite understand the balance of it, but it was there nonetheless. Hearing about the Admiral's persistent search for his brother-in-law (Agathon had made sure to mention that) had won them good will points from Valerant that Bill wasn't even aware of. She, however, had seen the flash of surprised appreciation on the pilot's face and knew exactly what it meant: Bill had yet another fan.

_Valerant had smiled widely. _

_"My wife is going to be really happy to hear this. Thank you, sir," he'd said. Then he'd explained that with few people in the fleet with family members still alive, his wife had felt truly blessed that she'd been on the _Galactica_ during the decommissioning ceremony to see her brother before he was transferred to a new ship. It had meant they'd both survived. "Jason's fine on his own," he'd said, "but she worries about her baby brother at the best of times. Having him disappear the way he did-" he shrugged. "I don't think she's slept since we realised he was missing. I don't know what it would have done to her if we'd never found him."_

_Karl Agathon had smoothly broken into the conversation and said, "I believe the President has set up something that might help ease your wife's mind even more," and then looked at her expectantly. _

_Surprised he knew about what she and Tory had set up, and even more surprised that he would volunteer information that would put her in a good light, Roslin turned to Valerant and smiled. "Yes, that's true. In co-operation with _Galactica's_ medical facilities, we've set up a desk for enquiries about people on the shuttles. If you call my office and explain what you need, someone there will find out for you how he's doing in better detail. It will help ease her worry, at least."_

_Valerant had nodded. Stepping back, he'd looked at the two leaders, then said, "Then I thank you both. But I shouldn't keep you any longer. Thank you." After hesitating for a fraction, he'd then added firmly, "Please don't forget what I said today."_

_At his words, Roslin's jaw had clenched involuntarily. Gratitude obviously hadn't erased all the concerns the pilot held about_ them.

Unable to stop herself from remarking on the man's insistence that they do something about the way they handled themselves, she told Adama, "Finding his brother-in-law didn't wipe our slate clean with him."

"I wouldn't expect it to. And to be honest, I'd be happier if he hadn't had a point," Bill admitted reluctantly. He waited as he felt the welcome sensation of their raptor rising from the hangar deck floor, then continued, "If you look at the situation from his point of view, it's hard to argue with him."

"Didn't make it any easier to hear, though." Glancing first at Agathon and then at her detail, she wondered how all the information Valerant had held had gotten out. "We'll discuss it later, in private," she promised.

Later sounded fine to him. He rested his head back against the wall and lapsed into silence. Unconsciously, he grimaced. Poundy drums still beat a dull, unpleasant tattoo against his skull. He closed his eyes. _There was so much to think about_...

Laura noticed his withdrawal and felt concern coil more tightly in her belly. Feeling someone's eyes on her, she looked up to see Agathon regarding her silently. Their eyes met briefly before quickly sliding away. She felt a familiar tremor of unease, but then realised that his expression had held none of the cool reserve and accusation it usually did when he looked at her. Curiously, she turned her gaze back towards him, and wondered why the change...

-xxx-

Exiting the raptor, Bill stepped heavily onto the deck. After assisting Laura off the ramp, he stopped her forward movement with a touch on her arm and asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

When she answered in the affirmative and eyed him curiously, he asked another question. "Think you can handle a short walk before we go back to Life Station?"

"Of course," she assured him, "but-"

"Just a minute," he interrupted. Moving over to where Helo stood, he spoke to him in a low tone. When he was finished, Helo looked troubled, said something in reply, but then finally nodded and turned away. Roslin watched as he began to speak to the medic who had attended Bill. Her attention was diverted, however, when Adama returned to her side and said, "Tell your detail you're taking a detour."

She looked at him with a puzzled expression, but didn't question him. Turning, she walked over to her head of security and did as he asked. Once that was done and she had returned to his side, he took her elbow and guided her out of the docking area.

When they were in the corridor, his hand dropped away and he turned in the opposite direction from Life Station.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You can't guess?"

She could.

"Cottle isn't going to be happy," she said. She was beginning to wish she hadn't acquiesced to Bill's insistence that Cottle not be notified of what had happened until their return. Had Cottle known, he'd have had people waiting for them to arrive, and Bill would have been taken to Life Station immediately.

"Hang Cottle," Bill groused. "He's never happy anyway. All I want is a few minutes in peaceful surroundings."

"And you're bringing me along because...?"

"We need to talk, and at the moment, we're headed toward what's probably the only safe and secure place left for that in the entire fleet."

It was an exaggeration, but he had a point. Their conversation with Valerant had been nothing if not enlightening so far as just how much information was out in the fleet about things they had believed well under the radar.

"It won't be long before Cottle figures out we're not where we should be," she warned.

His response was curt. "My door's thick and it's got a damned good lock. It'll take a while to get through no matter how determined he is." He paused as a dull throb pulsed in his temple again, then added in a grumpy tone, "I'm not going back to Life Station until I'm good and ready."

Honesty made him admit to himself that it might be sooner rather than later. Although the half-hour rest in the raptor had helped restore him even further and the pain in his head was receding, he was tired, and the thought of reclining on his sofa in the muted lighting of his quarters was far more attractive than he liked to admit.

-xxx-

Re-entering his quarters after so many weeks was bittersweet. He'd left thinking never to return, and a tightness in his chest eased as he stepped into its welcome, familiar embrace.

A soft sigh of relief rumbled from his throat as he secured the hatch and then crossed the floor.

"Have a seat," he said over his shoulder. "I'm going to see if my liquor is still here."

She blinked. "Who would dare steal the Admiral's booze?"

He grunted softly and squatted down to pull on one of his desk drawers. "Kara Thrace is pretty good at it."

"Oh," she said, sitting on the broad expanse of sofa and hoping that he found something. "I assume there's an interesting story behind that comment."

He returned with a bottle and two glasses.

Sitting down beside her, he said, "For my last birthday, Kara gifted me a bottle of ambrosia she'd got by slowly siphoning it off from my own stock." He smiled. "I figured out it was going missing and that she was likely the one taking it by the time she had about ten ounces."

"And you didn't confront her immediately?"

He shook his head. "I didn't catch her red-handed, so she'd just have denied it. Besides, I got curious about why she was doing it. All she had to do was ask, and I'd have given her a bottle; she knew that."

"I don't think I understand the point."

"The challenge, and it would have been fun."

Roslin frowned. "A challenge."

He nodded and his face relaxed into a grin. "Yeah. To steal it, she had to either get in while I was out, or take it while I was here, without my knowing. It couldn't have been easy, but I didn't catch her in the act once. She must have loved it."

Still not sure she totally got it - though it was obvious Bill did - she nodded.

"Does she know you know now?"

Again, he nodded, and his grin grew wider. "And she's working on a bottle for my next birthday. I'm not making it easy for her, though."

Holding the bottle up, he examined it, then said, "I hadn't planned to return, so I didn't hide this. She obviously hasn't been back long enough to come in and make a search." He poured some of the pleasantly coloured liquid into each glass and passed one to her.

_I hadn't planned to return._ Roslin felt something wrench in her gut at his easy admission. Recovering, she looked up to find him regarding her with dark eyes and his mood suddenly changed..

"To miraculous recoveries," he said, saluting her with his glass.

She hesitated. "Should you be drinking right now?"

He looked at her steadily, his glass raised.

After a moment's pause, she relaxed and lifted her drink in response.

Touching the lip of her glass against his, she echoed, "To miraculous recoveries."

He took a drink and swallowed. Looking at the liquid swirling in his glass, he said, "A lot of what he said was true, you know."

Not disconcerted by the sudden change in topic and tone, she nodded but waited for him to decide how to approach the issue.

Sliding down, he rested his head on the back of the sofa comfortably. "It means we've got a lot to consider." He closed his eyes, grateful for the way the alcohol warmed his insides. His headache was almost gone, too.

She looked at him and found herself still unable to quash her concern. He was exhausted, there was no doubt about it. But there was something changed in his demeanour that worried her even more.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just a bit of a headache still."

She wasn't convinced he was telling the truth, but knew better than to push.

They lapsed into silence, enjoying both the liquor they probably shouldn't have been drinking, and being back in his quarters.

Together.

When she felt the warm, familiar awareness between them begin to kindle itself once again, she tried to shrug it off. Concentrating mightily, she shifted and then quietly observed, "You're not angry anymore."

He took inventory of his feelings, realised she was right. There was stress, surprise, and hurt. There was a part of him still crying '_Why_?' But anger? No. He felt its absence, missed its energy, but found he could neither dredge it back into existence nor mourn its passing.

What was done, was done.

"No," he said in a low tone. "I'm not angry anymore."

"But you haven't forgiven," she said.

He opened an eye to look at her, then closed it.

"Forgiveness has never been something you've asked for," he said.

"And if I were to ask for it now?"

A long silence followed her quietly spoken words. Finally, he stirred. Opening his eyes, he slowly turned them to meet hers. He wasn't sure he was ready for this conversation. Wasn't sure he was ready to once and for all say goodbye to the hope he had held so close for such a heart-wrenchingly short period of time.

"Are you sure we're ready for this conversation, Laura?"

Unable to read his expression, she nodded.

"In that case, there's something I need to ask you first."

Laura looked at him and felt a tremble of fear.

End   
Chapter 28


	29. Outside

******Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel**  
**

* * *

******Chapter 29**

**Outside  
**

Pacing the floor, Cottle looked across the room and frowned. "So where the frak are they?" he demanded in a sharp tone. A stream of smoke trailed behind him as he walked, creating movement in the blue-grey cloud of cigarette smoke already hanging in the air around his head.

Communications receiver in hand, Meyes held it out to him and said, "Captain Agathon is on the line. You'd better ask him yourself."

Cottle walked over. His movements quick with irritation, he took the phone and held it up to his ear."This is Major Cottle," he barked. "What the _hell_ have you done with the Admiral and President Roslin? And why am I just finding out they've been onboard for over an hour? You and her security clowns were supposed to bring the two of them straight back to Life Station!"

He fell silent as he listened to the captain's response.

Meyes watched with interest as his face quickly turned an intriguing shade of purple.

"_What?_" he roared into the receiver.

She could hear Agathon trying to explain further, but Cottle soon overrode his words, shouting, "_When?_...They've _what_?... Holy frakking Lethe! Does _no one _listen to anything I tell them? You get their sorry asses back here, stat! That's an order!"

Again she heard the tinny sound of the captain's voice respond, and Cottle fell silent. As he listened, she could see his anger continue to boil.

"I don't _care _what the frakking medic said and I don't care where they've _gone_!" he finally roared. "Listen to me! You get the two of them back here before I come after them myself! I'm going to frakking kill them! _And_ you! And anyone _else _I can get my hands on who let this happen! What the hell were-"

Agathon's voice continued to spill from the receiver. To her surprise, she didn't get the impression the doctor's threats were making much headway with young officer. In Agathon's game, Admiral trumped Major Doctor every time.

There were a few more moments of back and forth between the two men and then Cottle slammed the receiver down. Glaring at Meyes as if it were all her fault, he rasped, "_Gods. _Roslin stopped the meeting and called in the medic to have a look at the Admiral. Apparently he checked out okay, but now, instead of being here like any two _sane_ people would be, the two of them have frakking waltzed off to Adama's quarters! _Frak_. I should never have let them out of my damned sight. Stupid frakking-" He stopped abruptly and looked around. "And where the _hell _is the medic?! Smithers should have reported here as soon as he got back, with or without his patients!" He jabbed his cigarette into a nearby ashtray and swore. "I should have damned well gone myself. Can't trust anyone to do anything."

With random bits of cursing inserted here and there, Cottle continued to fill her in on the details that Agathon had relayed to him. Meyes stepped back and listened quietly. This was the angriest she'd seen him in a while, and that was saying something.

When he had finished one particularly colourful description of what he was going to do to the medic when he finally showed up, she assumed her most reasonable tone and said, "If Smithers has any sense at all, he's taken cover and will stay there until _you_ calm down. You know very well he had no say in what the Admiral and the President decided to do. My guess is this detour was planned before they even left. They probably had someone tell Smithers to go for lunch and promised that someone else would take care of giving you the update."

Cottle snorted. "If that's what happened, it'll be the last meal he ever eats!"

"Jack," she cautioned gently, "it's not him you're really angry at." What Cottle was angry at, she thought, was not having control over the situation.

"Oh, I'm angry at him, all right," he growled. Against his will, however, his anger against Smithers was weakening as the rational side of his brain began to kick in. How many people could stand up to either Roslin or Adama once their minds were made up about doing something? And deep down, he knew damned well that if there'd been anything to indicate that the Admiral was at risk, Smithers would have protested the detour and then contacted Life Station immediately. Determined to make a point, however, he continued, "I'm pissed at just about everyone else, too. How am I supposed to know what's going on if no one thinks it's necessary to tell me? What if that episode of his on the _Gideon_ is something that I should be assessing? Has anyone frakking considered _that_?" He looked around, hesitated, then waved his hands in the air and said, "That's it. I'm going after them myself."

Dana Meyes watched as he gathered up his stethoscope and looked for his medical bag. Cottle had good cause to go seek them out, but a mental picture of the scene outside the Admiral's quarters - and the coronary the doctor would likely give himself while he created that scene - made her suggest, "The results for the blood tests you've been running should be ready soon. You'll want to be here for that. Why don't you call them instead?"

He stopped and glared at her.

"_Call _them?"

She nodded. Knowing the fact he had stopped moving was a good sign, she quickly told him, "Your chances of talking to them are probably better if you do. I expect the Admiral's got a pretty thick door. Impossible to get through and just as hard to hear through, right? So have a call routed to him instead." Betting that the Admiral was unlikely to ignore a ringing phone, she said, "When he answers, you can ask him to come back so you can have a look at him here in Life Station. Politely, of course."

"_Ask_ him?" Cottle exploded, "I'll damned well _order_ his ass back here! What the hell was he thinking? Of all the stupid, foolhardy, frakking half-arsed-"

"You go off on him like that, and he'll hang up," Meyes warned him calmly.

Cottle stopped abruptly and glared at her. She was right. He knew she was right because it was exactly what _he'd_ do if the roles were reversed: hang up on the sorry sonofabitch and let him stew in his own bile...

Ignoring his glare, Meyes continued, "You catch more flies with honey, so it might do better to at least _pretend _to be nice. Tell him you've heard what happened and you need to take a look at him. Tell him you'd like to see him immediately. He'll say no, but you can at least ask how he's feeling and get a description of what happened. If you want, you can ask to talk to the President, too, and get her take on things." She looked Cottle straight in the eyes. "If nothing else, it might reassure you," she told him. "Once you're reassured, you can curse at him and he can hang up on you." Her lips curved and she arched one eyebrow. "Then you'll _both_ feel better."

He glared at her, hating that she was so calm and had just come up with a decent idea. As CMO, he could order the Admiral's door broken down, if he wanted to, but he knew better than to go that route unless absolutely necessary. Whatever he did, he'd have to live with Bill Adama afterwards, and no matter how crazy-ass mad he was at the moment, he wasn't so crazy he couldn't see that a simple call might avoid a whole lot of messiness down the road.

"Dana, you piss me off, you know that?" he growled.

She nodded and tried to keep her smile small. "Of course I do. Now call them. But remember: nice first, nasty later."

-xxx-

After a quick look at the mess the nugget had made of part of the landing bay, Lee was heading toward CIC when he turned a corner and was surprised to see Karl and Sharon Agathon walking in the corridor in front of him.

Projecting his voice enough to be heard, he said, "Hey, Helo."

Both of the Agathons stopped and turned.

"You two are back! I didn't hear the landing announcement."

"There wasn't one," Helo said as he watched Lee approach. "We got back an hour or so ago. The Admiral asked us to go to CIC and let you and Colonel Tigh know personally, but we had to take care of a few other things he ordered first, so we're just getting to CIC now," he apologised.

Lee frowned at the change in protocol. As he came to a stop beside them, he said, "I don't understand."

Helo shifted uncomfortably and looked at Sharon. She in turn shrugged and said, "He decided not to go straight back to Life Station - he and the President wanted to stop by his quarters for a while."

"His quarters?" Lee asked.

"Yeah," Helo said, "I think there were some issues raised during their meeting this morning that needed to be discussed further."

At first, Lee didn't feel unduly concerned. His father and Roslin had both looked well earlier that morning. If there were items of business they needed to review, heading for his father's quarters was perfectly natural - they often chose to go there, rather than sit in an uncomfortable meeting room, and when the alternative was going to Life Station, it made sense they'd take a detour. Looking at Karl Agathon's face, however, he saw an unease that set off alarm bells in his mind.

"Something happened, didn't it?" he said.

Agathon nodded. "During the meeting, Roslin had to call for the medic. The Admiral didn't look too good by the time we got into the room." Remembering the scene he had come in upon, he continued, "The President looked panicked. She was on her knees beside him when we got there. She was keeping it together okay, but you could tell she was really worried. Your father kept telling her he was fine, but she wasn't having any of it and made the medic examine him anyway. I think she was probably right to; the Old Man must have been pretty out of it, because he didn't put up any fight at all when the medic started poking and prodding. You know what he's usually like."

Lee did know. And for his father to allow a display of weakness in front of not only the President but Valerant as well...

"But he's okay now?"

Helo shrugged. "He looked okay to me. He seemed to be having trouble focussing when we first entered the room, but that didn't last long, and the medic did end up giving him an all clear. I think all he said was that there was a slight elevation in his blood pressure. By the time we got back here, he was pretty much back to being himself. Tired, I think, but that's understandable. He was walking okay and was pretty clear about what he planned to do. The President didn't argue about going to his quarters, so she must think he's okay, too." He hesitated, then offered, "It'll be okay. She won't let anything happen to him."

Lee looked at him in surprise. It was the first even remotely positive thing he'd heard Agathon say about the President since the Hera incident. Without thinking, he blurted, "You trust her for that?"

Helo nodded. The naked anxiety he'd seen on Roslin's face when they'd entered the meeting room on the _Gideon _had shocked and surprised him.

But in the best possible way.

For the first time, he'd seen the President display something he'd never expected to see in her: total concern for another individual. For those few brief moments, she'd had no other focus but the Admiral and his well being. For those few moments, he'd seen panic and fear and a complete disregard for how her actions and reactions would be perceived. In those few moments, he'd seen true solicitude for another.

He had seen another emotion, too, and seeing it had taken him aback, because he hadn't thought her capable.

His eyes steady, Helo found his voice and responded firmly, "Yeah, for this, I do."

Taken off stride by Helo's shift in attitude towards the President, Lee took a moment to process the change, then nodded. Knowing how protective Roslin had been of his father lately, he had no problem with her being the one in charge of keeping an eye on him.

"And they're still in his quarters?" he asked.

The Agathons both nodded.

"They'll be fine," Sharon said confidently. Hoping the two would be left alone long enough to sort out whatever they needed to sort out, she said, "They've been trapped in Life Station for a long time. You can't blame them for not wanting to go back there any sooner than they have to."

Lee didn't blame them at all, but he still felt compelled to say, "I'm surprised Cottle okay'd their going."

Karl looked uncomfortable. "Doctor Cottle didn't know until a few minutes ago. My conversation with him after he found out is one of the reasons I'm so late notifying you and Colonel Tigh about our return. He's not very happy about the situation."

Lee looked at him sharply. Suddenly realising what his father had done, he said, "Dad put you in charge of divert and delay, didn't he! And that's why there was no landing announcement - he didn't want Cottle to know he was back!"

"That's right," Helo said. "He even had me send the medic to the museum bay to check up on Jason DeCourt. Told me to tell him he appreciated the care he'd been given on the _Gideon_, and that it would set his mind at ease if the medic would personally check up on one of his marines for him. After seeing DeCourt, he was to contact the information desk the President set up so that his report was there for when his family called. He figured that would take the medic a couple hours, at least."

Lee blinked. His father was obviously well enough to cover all his bases and take care of business too. He was also well enough to have a healthy fear of Cottle finding out he was back before he was safely locked in his quarters. He felt himself relax and stifled a smile. "Cottle's going to be mad at my father for this, but he's going to blame _you _for letting him do it." He shook his head. Cottle wasn't a pleasant man to have angry at you. His lips curved upward. "If I were you, I'd avoid getting sick for the next while."

Helo grunted knowingly. "I have every intention of staying healthy for a long time to come. Better safe than sorry."

Lee chuckled. "Good plan, my friend. I'm told he's one sonofabitch with a needle when he's in a mood."

Realising they'd been standing still for some time, he said, "We should get to CIC. Colonel Tigh is going to have questions when he hears what happened at the meeting. It'll be best if you're there to answer them."

The Agathons nodded, and the three set out again. Their thoughts, however, were not on where they were going, but on the two who were already where they wanted to be.

End  
Chapter 29

Sorry for the long delay. All sorts of thoughts and rethoughts and rearranging going on here. I've cut scenes, added scenes, and driven myself crazy - and have an extra chapter to show for it that I'm not sure what to do with. Sorry about no Roslin/Adama this time around, but they show up in the next chapter, I promise.

Thanks for still reading.  
Mariel


	30. Inside

FFnet is happy with us again! I'm taking a deep breath and posting this before I want to change something again...

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 30**

**Inside**

_"In that case, there's something I need to ask you first."_

The air in the room stilled after his quietly spoken words. His thoughts in turmoil, Adama took another sip of his drink. Having opened the door to ask what he needed to know, he felt suddenly tongue-tied.

With a soft susurration, Roslin set her untasted drink down and turned to face him. On the _Gideon_, he'd said they needed to talk, and she'd been surprised by the statement. Now, she knew he was right. This was their window of opportunity, and they couldn't let it pass. Gathering her courage, she decided not to wait for him to speak, but to forge ahead on her own.

Regarding him with green eyes that held all the softness of spring but little of its hope, she slid to the edge of the sofa and leaned a hand against its back.

"What are we going to do, Bill?" she asked.

She could almost feel his heart slow as he reacted to her words, and wondered if he'd heard the longing in her voice. When he shifted his gaze to her and she felt the full brunt of his searching eyes, she knew he understood that she was talking not about the problems in the fleet, but about themselves.

In spite of that understanding the words that came out of his mouth was a prevarication.

"I thought _I_ was going to ask the question," he said.

"And I thought _I'd_ help break the ice," she said easily.

Dragging his eyes from hers, he relented. "I don't know what we're going to do," he admitted in a low tone. Keeping his gaze firmly on the drink he held in both hands, he said, "Though for starters you can maybe tell me why you-"

Something tightened painfully inside her, and she withdrew her hand from the back of the sofa and quickly spoke over his words. "I tried to explain before," she said. "Encouraging a relationship with Zarek seemed the only way to get what I needed. You were gone, contact with you forbidden, things were getting steadily worse, and I _had_ to know what Baltar was doing on_ Colonial One_." She paused to gather her thoughts, then continued, "You know how awful it was down there. I was frightened, Bill, but I was also determined to do whatever I had to do to ensure our people's well being. I needed all the information I could get, and I latched on to the only way I could think of to get it. You know what Zarek is like; if you have nothing to offer him, you don't exist. I only had one thing to offer, and I knew he was interested. I didn't think about how what I did would affect you - or," she admitted, "how I would feel about it myself afterwards. I didn't see it as a betrayal of anyone, I saw it as a means to an end. I was just doing what I had to do." She sat back and regarded him with eyes full of regret. "I hadn't thought far enough ahead to realise there'd be consequences I couldn't live with."

And it wasn't, she realised, only her damaged relationship with Bill that worried her. To her surprised dismay, she also realised her actions said something about a change in herself she wasn't sure she liked. What she had done had lacked perspective. There had been no balance, no consideration of the ramifications of her choices in either a strategic, moral, or ethical sense.

She wondered when she had lost her need for that.

-xxx-

Bill frowned. Laura's rush of words had answered a question he hadn't been about to ask. Not yet, at least. That her alliance with Zarek needed to be discussed at all was distasteful, and when she had interrupted him, he had been preparing to ask about her act of self-sacrifice on Kobol. Her words had given him more time to think, however, and no matter how he looked at it, her coldly ending their relationship and starting an affair with someone else didn't jibe with her insistence upon following him to Kobol and the new-found knowledge that she'd thrown herself in front of cylon gunfire to save his life. How could she care so little on one hand and yet care so much on the other?

Another part of his mind also noted that her believing his first question would be about Zarek said things she perhaps didn't realise. A needy part of him felt somehow reassured. An even needier and more deeply hidden part of him began to feel some small stirrings of hope.

He exhaled softly as a myriad of thoughts swirled formlessly about in his mind and then slowly coalesced into a sort of understanding... His breath caught, and he turned eyes the colour of a stormy sea towards her.

She said she'd done what she'd had to do.

That had become, he realised, an essential part of her. Her willingness to do whatever she felt was necessary to accomplish her goals was something he both admired and feared. There was a price to pay for that sort of single mindedness, a loss of something he regarded as fundamentally human and civilised. He'd seen it most often in the military - the absence, for some people, of a line beyond which they would not go in order to attain a goal. It had always bothered him. He was a man who needed to question, needed to explore why and how...but though he accepted that there were more nuances of right and wrong, more shades of gray than most palettes could hold, he had come to strongly believe that there were lines that should not be crossed, deeds that should not be done. It was a perspective he could not give up. For him, having a line beyond which one would not step was a fundamental part of being a moral, ethical creature worthy of being called a human being...

And so the question became could he live with its apparent absence in the woman he called President?

Could he live with its absence in the woman he still desired?

And could he stop thinking of her affair with Zarek and all her other betrayals in terms of their relationship and instead see everything the way she had - as something extraneous and necessary at the time, meaningless in every way except as a means to accomplish a goal? For her, the affair with Zarek had had no bearing on the personal relationship she shared with Bill Adama - one relationship had been created out of her need to ensure humanity's survival, the other...

He wasn't certain what their relationship had been created from.

Attraction? Challenge? Need or loneliness?

The physical, intellectual, and emotional aspects of what had drawn them together were intertwined and so hopelessly entangled he felt nothing but confusion when trying to sort out its roots..

_And what had 'it' grown into?_

He remembered she had called it love.

And he remembered wanting to use that same word as they lay bleeding on Kobol...

But could love - or what they called love - overcome the culmination of what had passed between them? Could it heal the wounds made by so many betrayals?

Could it resuscitate the lost trust that had caused their relationship to founder?

-xxx-

Still on their way to CIC, Sharon, Lee and Helo walked in silence until Sharon looked at the Major and asked hesitantly, "Lee, has your father spoken about how he feels about being back?"

Uncertain what she was asking, Lee Adama's brow furrowed. Slowing his steps, he turned his head towards her and said, "I don't know what you mean."

As was her way, the lieutenant went straight to her point without preamble. "When your father left for Kobol, he thought he was going on a suicide mission," she observed bluntly. "He was sure he was going to die, and didn't mind. He'd make his plan, knew its outcome, and welcomed it. When you make that sort of decision, you think it's final. Problem is, he ended up alive and back here, right where he started. He's in the middle of a crisis now, so he's working on autopilot, but once this is over, where will he be mentally? He's back, but he hadn't planned to be. Hell, he didn't _want_ to be. And although we're all thankful he's here, _he_ needs to be thankful, too." She looked at him with dark eyes. "I'm not sure anything's changed to make him want to be here again, and if not..."

Her voice trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.

Lee had no desire to complete it.

He and his father had never been ones for heart-to-heart talks, so how would he know what went on in his father's mind? How would he know whether or not his father was grateful to be alive or not? Remembering that until Kara had spelled it out, he hadn't even been aware that there was something going on between his father and Roslin, he admitted, "He hasn't said anything, and I've never been much good at reading him. I couldn't even guess what would have to change in order for him to feel right about being back."

"He seemed okay this morning," Helo offered optimistically. "Or at least he looked glad to be with us, and if that's how he's feeling, that's good, right? When Kara was ribbing us about taking over today's piloting duty and he threw in his two cents worth, it felt like old times."

Sharon nodded, and allowed herself to feel somewhat reassured. Still, she felt compelled to say, "It did, but I'm worried this crisis will end and he'll go back to what he was before he went to Kobol. I don't like the thought of that."

Silently, Lee agreed. It had been pretty horrible, and no one wanted that version of William Adama to return. He looked at Sharon thoughtfully. Sitting around the fire on Kobol, she'd been unusually willing to share her insights and observations about his father. Now, she was continuing that behaviour, forcing them to think about things that they otherwise would have avoided. Looking at her curiously, he blurted out, "Why the concern?"

Sharon regarded him with dark eyes. On some level she was offended by the question and by his need to ask it, but she swallowed that displeasure and considered her reply carefully. She could state the obvious: that she cared because Adama had been the first person, besides Helo, to look at her and see an individual creature worthy of existence. She could say he'd been the first to trust her and believe in her, and the first to extend his hand in concrete proof of his trust.

She paused, remembering. He had, she realised, gifted her with his trust even after others had betrayed it. He had not given up hope then; he had not given up his faith in people and doing the right thing.

But that was only part of why she cared. Her concern was rooted in more, and the more, she knew, would likely have a greater effect on his son's thinking. Finally, she said, "We spent hours talking while he was up here worrying about everyone on New Caprica and about how to get everyone back in one piece. One thing I learned about him, beside the fact he has an amazing need to understand things, is that he wants to do the _right_ thing. He has a very idealized vision of how a good human being acts, of what a good human being is. It's obvious he doesn't feel he has been one, and it's hard for him to forgive himself for that in a time when he considers it so important to be one." She gestured gracefully. "I think a lot of that anger we saw was directed at himself. He feels it's important that mankind be worthy of survival, and he'd come to believe he wasn't. If he continues to feel that way, I'm worried he might-"

She stopped, leaving her thoughts once again unfinished. After only a heartbeat, however, she resumed her explanation.

"So my concern," she concluded, "stems from the fact that in William Adama we have a credible, ethical, trustworthy man with a proven track record to help lead us, but if he remains convinced that he can't trust either us or himself to act in the decently human manner he believes we need to, we're in danger of not having him to lead us at all."

Lee looked at her.

_And life wasn't already complicated enough?_

"So we've got to figure out where his head's at," he finally said. "If he's got any doubts, we've got to find a way of getting past whatever was going on with him before he headed after Kara and me."

Sharon nodded. "Yeah, though I have no idea how to do that. It's important he sort himself out, though." Knowing there was another important aspect to the problem that had not been brought up, she added, "And it's just as important that he sort out whatever's gone wrong between himself and the President. They balance each other in a way we need. God placed them where He did for a reason. I'm positive their destiny is a shared one."

Lee was assaulted be two feelings at once: the queasiness he felt while fighting off a mental picture of his father and Laura Roslin on the ground on Kobol, and a distaste of Sharon's use of the cylon singular term 'God'.

Setting both things aside, he acknowledged that Sharon did have a point. He couldn't envision any other two people leading the fleet. For all his disagreements with his father, he knew that the Old Man not only had the ability, determination, and experience to lead the military, he had its respect and affection. His father also provided a necessary balance to Roslin's perspective. On her part, Roslin had proven herself a capable and perhaps even ruthless leader - and she was one of the few people who could make his father listen to another point of view. When they worked together well, they worked together perfectly...

But no matter what his father and Roslin had been doing together on that riverbank, his father now distrusted and perhaps even hated her. He didn't know the story behind the chasm that had grown between them, but he'd seen it first hand and knew in order to move on, his father would have to forgive her for whatever it was she had done to create it.

"On Kobol, you said he needed to forgive himself. I think he needs to forgive her, too," he said.

Sharon nodded. "He's been angry with her for a while. Something happened, and for some reason, he hasn't been able to work around it the way he has in the past."

Helo grunted. "Lots of things have happened, so if we're looking for a cause, we've got plenty to choose from. But you're right: there was a straw that broke the camel's back, and whatever it was, he's going to have to forgive her that before things start righting themselves."

They stopped just outside the doors to CIC. Lee thought a moment, then looked at his two friends. "We may have to mediate a peace between them," he said reluctantly.

Sharon agreed. "If they can't do it on their own, you're right."

Lee sighed and hoped they could do it on their own.

He thought of Kara. She, on the other hand, was _so_ going to love getting involved.

-xxx-

Laura looked at Bill and hesitated. As she had said earlier, his anger seemed gone, but she was still not comfortable, and he had still not offered forgiveness. In fact, since she'd spoken, he'd remained resolutely silent. Turning away, she sighed inwardly. She had the inner strength to deal with whatever life presented her - including a life without Bill Adama. But, though in many respects life might be easier without his life entangled with hers, she knew without a doubt that she didn't _want _a life without him. Screwing Zarek hadn't been worth it. Keeping secrets, lying, and not considering the effects of her decisions on others, had all helped tear apart the trust that had built between them. That cost had been too high, and she found herself troubled by having to work around it.

"I've come to see," she admitted, "that when I am focussed on a goal, I lose sight of the fact that my actions don't just affect a result in terms of success or failure. There's also an effect on the people involved and on the people who care for them."

It sounded so simple when she said it.

Funny how long it had taken her to realise it.

She looked down at her hands and folded them, one inside the other, to hide their trembling. "I've made a lot of decisions without considering what they would do to you or us or the people we know. I'm not used to thinking about those things. I honestly didn't fully understand your anger when I went behind your back and had Kara return to Caprica, or your reaction to finding out about Hera, or even your reaction when we were all back here together and you couldn't stand to be in the same room as me. But when you left for Kobol, and Tigh forced me to see what you were intending to do, I began to see the web that had been woven, and now..." Her voice trailed off.

An emotion she was becoming all too familiar with trickled down her spine.

In an attempt to move away from it, she rose. After putting distance between him and herself, she stopped. Standing straight, her hands clasped in front of her, she felt separate and more alone than she had ever felt before. Turning luminous eyes to meet his, she said, "And now, I don't know what to do. I'm frightened, because except for Zarek, I think that given the same circumstances, I would do the same things again. Perhaps not in exactly the same ways, but I would have needed to do them. And knowing that the things I've needed to do have also destroyed the relationship that we built..." She lifted a hand, then dropped it. "I don't know how to fix this, and I'm afraid of that, too. But I know we have to, because we can't go on like this. I can't let go of what we've shared, Bill. And I don't want to. On Kobol... we...it meant something. It was right...And last night...That meant something to me..."

Her voice faltered. She had not expected to make this confession. Exposing herself like this went against every instinct of self-preservation she had.

With wary eyes, she watched him slowly rise to his feet. The tension in the air between them snapped when the phone began to ring.

End  
Chapter 30

Author's note: Next up: The aftermath of a talk with the doctor. My apologies the end is taking so long. Thanks for reading, though!


	31. Honesty

Here we are. Finally. Just so you know, chapter 32 is pretty much finished except for the compulsive changing I like to do, and the Epilogue is just waiting for a final paragraph or two.

Thank you to everyone who's been kind enough to review - it really is appreciated. For some reason BSG readers seem more likely to drop by and say 'hi' than any other I've expereinced, and I love it! Thanks for the comments, the suggestions and the conversations. It's made this story one of the most enjoyable ones to write I've ever written! Also a hello to a couple places I like to lurk: GateWorld's A/R thread (the absolute best spot during the season for all things A/R related) and Sci-Fi's like-minded shipper thread. It's places like those that make the hiatus bearable!

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 31**

**Honesty **

Bill hung up the phone with a violent bang and an angry exclamation.

"Bastard," he muttered.

Laura, who was casually leaning against the edge of his desk, looked at him with a half-smile on her face. She'd listened with interest to his one-sided discussion with Cottle and couldn't quite tell who had outdone the other in quarrelsome testiness. She was, however, intrigued by how agitated the conversation had made Bill, and would have given much to know what Cottle had said to create the reaction he had. Knowing by the scowl on his face this was not the time to ask, she commented, "He was surprisingly nice when he spoke to me."

His eyebrows rose. "And that didn't trigger anything on your DRADIS?"

She gave a surprised chuckle, then admitted dryly, "It _was _a little unusual."

"He only started out civil to get the information he wanted," Bill rasped. "As soon as he got that from _you_, he started complaining and giving _me_ orders! He knows damned well I'm okay." Repeating the explanation he'd given Cottle, he said, "I felt disorientated when my memories returned, that's all. It was a completely understandable reaction, and he knows it. I'm fine now." He glared at the communications receiver he'd just slammed back into place and moved towards the sofa. "And I'll go back to Life Station when I'm good and ready," he told her over his shoulder. "Verbally abusing me over the comm at the top of his lungs got him nowhere."

Folding her arms in front of her, Laura moved easily to follow him. Readily welcoming the diversion from their earlier conversation, she was unable to suppress a grin as she remarked, "I bet yelling made him feel better, though. Maybe almost as good as it made _you_ feel to hang up on him."

Bill stopped and turned. His scowl relaxed and his lips quirked upward slightly. "You may be right," he conceded.

They shared a familiar, knowing glance, then shifted their eyes uncomfortably.

Nearing the sofa, Bill automatically began to undo the buttons of his uniform as he mulled over his conversation with the doctor. As anticipated, Cottle had ranted and raved at him for a while over the expected medical stuff and about his not returning to Life Station and about who, exactly, was in charge of decisions regarding his health. Once he'd gotten _that_ out of his system, however, the doctor had turned to far more personal comments, and in his anger had hit a little too close to - and revealed a disconcerting awareness of - the emotional battle presently taking place between himself and Laura.

He'd also displayed what Bill considered a disconcerting lack of delicacy in the way he'd gone about it.

"_And if you're going to be holed up in your quarters like the stubborn ass you are, make yourself useful while you're there and fix things between you and Roslin! You're adults; it's about time you two started acting like it!"_

Bill had immediately tried to interrupt, but Cottle had bulldozed his way ahead, talking over his commanding officer's protests.

"_You may be pissed off at her, and you may even have a good reason to be, but you're no frakking piece of perfection yourself! Get over whatever it is that happened and make up. She lived through all sorts of hell waiting for you to get better, and it wouldn't hurt if you stopped being so oblivious to that fact. The woman cares about you, for gods' sake! Hell, if she weren't such a frakked up, irritating pain in the ass, I might feel bad for her."_

Knowing Cottle as he did, Bill had recognised that Jack saying he _might _have felt something actually meant he _had_. And for Cottle to feel badly for Laura, of all people...

...and for him to even suggest what he had about Laura's _feelings_...

Urgently trying to override the doctor's monologue, he'd glanced at the woman in question and wondered what had happened while he'd been in that blasted coma. In his sternest voice, he'd rasped, _"Doctor, I think you've said more than-" _

Cottle had ignored his interruption and ranted on.

"_Let me finish for gods' sake!" _he'd blustered_, "I swear you two are just frakked up enough to frakking deserve each other! Listen, I don't know exactly what's going on between the two of you, but considering the amount of time you spend in bed together, I do know it's a lot more than people suspect! I also know that-"_

Disbelief that he was hearing what he was hearing had held Bill in place as Cottle continued, but the limit of his patience had been reached when his CMO began, _"Just make sure the frakking door is locked if you end up in your rack t-"_

Bill had rammed the receiver into place on the opinionated bastard without hearing the rest. The satisfying slam and the accompanying pain to his hand had made him feel better.

But only slightly.

And it hadn't changed the fact that the maddening sonofabitch had given him a couple of things to think about - not least of which was to wonder what in Hades had taken place in Life Station to provide Cottle with so much to base his tirade on.

-xxx-

Stopping mid-sentence, Cottle took the phone from his ear and looked at it in surprise.

Then he frowned.

"Bastard," he muttered.

Hanging up the communications receiver with a snort, he turned and exclaimed, "He hung up on me!"

Dana Meyes stood regarding him with a horrified expression on her face.

"What?" he asked in a quarrelsome tone.

"Gods, Jack. You don't think you went a little far?" she asked.

"Why? I didn't say one thing that wasn't true!"

Her dark eyes widened. "Truth doesn't enter into anything you just said. You weren't giving him a report, you were..." her voice drifted off and she made a bewildered gesture with her hands. "I don't know what you were doing." She looked at him helplessly. "Is that how men give each other advice?" She shook her head. "No wonder you're all such frak ups. Gods..."

Feeling pushed onto the defensive, he demanded, "You don't think he needed to hear what I told him? I thought _you_ were the one who wanted them frakking 'happily ever after'!" he added, giving little air quote signs with his fingers.

Dana looked at him in disbelief. Curving her fingers into her own air quotes, she retorted, "There's frakking 'happily ever after', and then there's 'frakking happily ever after'! That parting shot of yours about his rack..."

She found herself rendered speechless.

"Well, I still say it needed to be said and that he needed to hear it!" he declared grumpily.

"He probably needed to hear _some_ of it," Dana amended, "but there are ways of saying things, and yelling it and using the language you did...that was just..." Finding it impossible to describe, she gave up trying to.

Cottle snorted. He knew he had maybe stepped a little over the line - maybe even more than a little - but Bill had needed to hear what he'd just said. Being angry at the time maybe hadn't helped his wording, but then again, if he hadn't been angry, he might never have said it at all. A man could get a lot more said when he was angry than he could when he was calm. He certainly hadn't _planned_ to say anything like what he had. Nor had he known he'd fallen so firmly into the 'Roslin and Adama should give it a go' camp until the words in Roslin's defence had actually fallen out of his mouth. His lips tightened. Seeing Roslin worry over Adama, and seeing her so needy that she'd crawled into bed with him while he was in a coma had gotten to him more than he'd thought.

He eyed Meyes. _Her_ starry-eyed, romantic nonsense hadn't helped, either.

"Nothing was wrong with my language," he said in a grumpy tone. "He said worse."

Meyes refused to be swayed. "Somehow I doubt it. And it wouldn't make it okay even if he had," she scolded.

"Maybe not, but he'll understand my intent after he's calmed down. It'll take a while for it to get through that thick skull of his, but once it has, he'll know I'm right, and fix things up between the two of them."

"Which will save you from being court-martialed or thrown in the brig when he sees you next?" she asked.

"Why would he want to do that?" he groused fearlessly.

Meyes thought his bravado a little forced, but said nothing. Perhaps Jack really did think he'd been giving advice, and not ranting 'fix it or else, you ass' at his commanding officer.

It certainly reconfirmed for her the fact that men were indeed strange creatures.

But also very endearing ones.

So hopefully what Cottle had said would help matters in some strange, testosterone-infused way she couldn't yet fathom.

She sighed inwardly and decided it was time to stop worrying about Jack Cottle's ham-fisted role in the President and Admiral's love life. As the doctor was about to pull out his cigarettes, she asked quickly, "Have you looked in on the blood work you started?"

His hand stilled and moved away from his pocket. Meyes smiled inwardly. Timing was critical if you wanted to reduce the number of cigarettes he smoked in a day.

"I've got free time at the moment," she offered, "So if you like, I can help you with some of the other tests."

Cottle nodded. "That would help. I've got to make a quick call to the galley first, then we'll get started."

-xxx-

Laura regarded Bill quietly as he resumed his semi-reclined position on the sofa. She'd watched him undo his uniform buttons and matched his actions, electing to hang her own jacket on the back of a chair, however, rather than leaving it to simply lie open. Once she was divested of the jacket, she sat down on the smooth leather a couple of feet from him. Still not sure she was prepared to continue the conversation that had been interrupted by Cottle's call, she casually asked, "I didn't have the chance to ask before, but what did you remember today?"

He turned his head slightly and examined her silently for a long moment. His eyes were clouded with thought, and a part of him seemed still preoccupied by whatever he'd just listened to on the phone. When they finally truly focussed on her, however, they did so with a dark intensity that held her breathless.

"I remembered you," he said in a quiet rasp. "You threw yourself in front of me just before the cylon opened fire." His voice took on a tone she wasn't sure of when he added, "It was a foolish thing to do."

Her eyes never leaving his, she shook her head slowly. "I couldn't let you be killed," she said.

He seemed to have no response to that. Being killed was all he'd wanted. Their eyes dropped away, and silence fell between them once again.

After a moment, Bill exhaled softly. Sitting up, he leaned forward and poured himself another drink. Still holding the bottle, he hesitated when he saw that her glass appeared untouched.

She put out her hand to cover the top of the glass. "I'm fine," she told him. She'd tried to take a drink earlier. When she'd held it up to her mouth, the distinctive, heavy aroma of the alcohol had assailed her nostrils and elicited an unexpected wave of nausea. Carefully, she'd set her drink aside.

"Would you like water instead?" he asked.

She nodded gratefully. "I'm sorry," she apologised, "I thought I was dying for something stronger, but..." Her stomach roiled at the thought of drinking anything but water, and she suddenly realised she hadn't eaten for hours. Water was definitely the more sensible choice.

He shrugged. "That's all right; it won't go to waste."

He rose, and took momentary refuge in filling a thermos with water and getting another glass for her. When they were set on the coffee table in front of her, he poured her ambrosia into his own and settled himself once again.

As he did so, a sense of inevitability washed over him.

Without looking, he could describe the way her hair fell across her forehead, the way her eyes glinted green in the muted lighting, the way her slender fingers held her glass...

And without looking, he knew she was feeling what he was feeling and thinking what he was.

He closed his eyes.

Here they were.

_Again._

The silence, the warmth, the heavy feeling of anticipation...

_It had all happened before; it would all happen again..._

This was how it always ended - the two of them here, sorting out what to do next.

Together.

_He couldn't let her die, no matter the cost..._

_...and she couldn't let him..._

"Why did you do it?"

The question tumbled unbidden from his lips.

_She'd asked the same of him, but in an angry tone, when she'd learned to her horror that cylon blood ran through her veins..._

"_You know why," he'd said, his eyes steady. _

_And she had understood. _

_Would he?  
_

"You know why," she said, echoing his past response.

He turned his head against the back of the sofa and held her gaze.

"Do I?"

The deep rumble of his voice stirred something inside her. She broke their eye contact and moved to put her glass of water on the coffee table. Turning back, she said firmly, "Yes, you do. You may not believe it, but you know. All the things that have happened...It's always been between us." She looked at his hatch door and inclined her head towards it. "It doesn't matter what's out there. What matters is here, between you and me. What matters is what we've built and what we feel for one another." Her face tightened. "And what we need to regain."

He looked at her and knew what she said was more true than he liked to acknowledge.

There was a power to their union that was undeniable. It was a heady, satisfying, all-encompassing thing... but he was wary, now, of its potence and of the potentially destructive nature of it. There was an element of the unknown in loving Laura Roslin, and he felt it now proven that without trust, they could not withstand either the inevitable outside pressures or their own, internal doubts and disputes.

She saw his hesitation and her heart sank. Rising, she put distance between them once again, then turned to look down at him.

"If we fix what's wrong between us, we'll be able to fix what's wrong out there in the fleet," she promised desperately. "We'll be able to do what needs to be done; we'll be able to go on." She hesitated. "And we need to go on..."

Bill watched her twist her hands in an unconscious expression of the stress she was feeling and sighed inwardly. Laura couldn't take back what she had done any more than he could take back some of his own actions; the past and their mistakes could not be rewritten. She was right about moving forward. Now that his life had so unceremoniously been given back to him, what other choice did he have?

The issue, of course, was now about _how_ they would move forward. Could he step back into what they had shared before? Both the professional and personal aspects of their relationship had, over time, become tightly entwined, the points of connect and disconnect between one and the other barely discernable. Could he (and did he even want to) open himself up to more of what he'd experienced already? Could he resume a professional standing with her without also engaging in a personal one?

_It had all happened before; it would happen again..._

A part of him considered a number of options, but he knew, deep inside the very centre of his being, that there was truly only one open to them. Because he loved her. He had for a while; longer, certainly, than he probably realised.

And on top of that, he believed her when she said that she loved him.

Recent events, however, had changed him. He'd experienced a betrayal the depth of which he hoped to never experience again. Shaken to the core, he'd had to re-evaluate the things he believed in.

Having slid to the edge of his seat, he now sat with elbows on knees, hands clasped around his drink. It was hard to know where to start, difficult to determine where, if there were such a place, to easily begin.

Laura looked at him and felt a tremor of realisation shudder through her.

"We've fallen apart and put ourselves and the fleet at risk twice now. Both times involved my breaking a personal trust with you. The first time, you managed to forgive me, and reunited the fleet by following me to Kobol. This second time was different. You were unforgiving and distant, and I knew I had to follow _you_ to Kobol. I knew I had to mend the rift between us, just as you had that first time. I-"

Before she could continue, he cleared his throat. "You stopped all communication with me, embarked on the affair with Zarek, and never, not once, ever mentioned anything about any of it upon your return. All I knew was that once you'd rejoined the fleet, Zarek had been dumped, he saw fit to award you the presidency, and you appeared ready to resume our relationship where you had left off. That kind of behaviour...it made me question things. And helped me realise if I could make a judgement call about you that mistaken, I could easily have made many more." He hesitated, then forged ahead. "I wondered if you'd have ended up with Baltar, had the opportunity presented itself. He was, after all, top dog down there. Zarek was only a poor second choice, just as he is here."

Her quick inhalation told him she understood the full meaning of what he was saying and that it had cut as deeply and painfully as he'd thought it might.

Clutching her hands against her stomach as though to soothe an internal ache, she felt revulsion that he should think and dare to say such a thing. A slow anger began to build against the hurt his words had caused. "Bill, that's not how it was. That's not-"

He saw her hurt, and saw the denial, and saw the righteous anger beginning to build. He sighed, already regretting his words and the hurt they had intended to cause. This wasn't an argument he was interested in having. It, oddly enough, wasn't close to being the real issue between them. His shoulders dropped. "Perhaps not," he admitted, trying to avert an all-out debate on the matter. "But making that observation - no matter how untrue - made me question other things I'd believed and done. It made me realise that trust is a rarer, more precious thing than I took it for. I gave it too freely to too many, and allowed myself to be betrayed by it too many times. My willingness to trust coloured my decisions and perspective too deeply."

"So you cut yourself off emotionally from everyone and everything."

He nodded, glad that she understood that trust was more than a logical response to known facts. The emotional and intuitive sides to it governed with a compelling hand. "If something doesn't work repeatedly, you're a fool to keep trying," he told her. "Trusting people stopped working for me - at least when you were involved, too."

She looked at him helplessly. She'd always known that trust in others was a sort of compass for him. It was the thing by which he guided his days and his decisions. From the very beginning, he had trusted in her, trusted that, as leader of the Twelve Colonies, she would handle the work the Fates had given her. He had shielded her, counselled her, and supported and defended her actions because he trusted it was the right thing to do. She had broken that trust many times, and he had regrouped, somehow accommodated for it, and never wavered.

But on New Caprica, she had stepped over a line that in a relationship with a man like Bill was drawn deep in the sand. She could try to twist her actions into something else, but what she had done had been such a personal betrayal of his trust that, looking back, it made her shiver with shame. No wonder he'd been reduced to considering a pattern in the men she chose to be involved with.

She closed her eyes, trying to think of a way to respond to make him understand that of everything, the one thing he could trust in absolutely was what she felt for him. All of him. The admiral, the man, the friend, the confidant... they were all inextricably intertwined and held her heart firmly.

Inhaling deeply, she marshalled her thoughts and prepared to speak.

A sound at the hatch stopped her. Someone was knocking.

End  
Chapter 31

AN: I apologise for they way I ended this chapter, but to put it anywhere else would have made the chapter too short or too long. Thank you for reading As you can see, it's still messy, but hey, they're messed up people, right? I think it's very hard for them to keep track of all the angles on their problems...I promise it won't be so many weeks before the next chapter is up, though.

Reagan, thanks for mentioning the crossover story - I didn't know it existed, and I'm really enjoying it! Fran, you make me smile. Thanks for the support! grin


	32. Conference

Here we go again. This chapter started out as about 23 KB, grew to almost 60, got divided into chapters 32 and 33, got pared down a bit, and now I think I'm ready to post. Maybe. Of course, if you're reading this, I obviouly pressed the 'send' button!

As you will see, I still prefer the idea of Adama having a second wife. Somehow it seems to fit that there would have been someone for him duing those years after his marriage to Caroline. And I like to think that they were happy.

* * *

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**Chapter 32**

**Conference  
**

Bill frowned when the tentative tapping repeated on the hatchway.

Feeling a mixture of relief and frustration at yet another interruption, Laura sighed.

They shared a look.

Inclining her head towards the hatch, Laura's voice held a hint of resigned humour when she said, "You might as well."

He nodded and rose, knowing from the hesitant sound of the knock that whoever it was had not come to demand anything. Turning the lock mechanism and pushing the hatch outward, he was surprised to discover Private Jaffey standing just outside the door with a large, covered tray balanced in his hands.

Glancing further down the corridor to where Roslin's detail had taken up position in a few chairs, he returned his gaze to the young man and asked, "Jaffey, what are you doing here?"

His hair in its usual disarray, but his shirt clean and pressed, the young man who generally brought him coffee in the morning looked at him nervously. Mirroring Adama's glance, he quickly looked back at the men guarding the hallway, then turned again towards the unsmiling Admiral. Swallowing, he said, "I'm sorry sir. They insisted that you and the President were not to be disturbed, but Doctor Cottle ordered that lunch be brought to you, and I-"

When he stopped uncertainly, Adama easily filled in the blanks. Roslin's security team had let the poor fellow decide whether to brave Cottle's wrath for not delivering the meal as ordered or to brave the Admiral's wrath at being disturbed - and had then let him venture to his door alone. Feeling a mixture of amusement and disgruntlement that _he_ was Jaffey's idea of the lesser of two evils, he decided to simply admire the man's ability to make a decision under difficult circumstances.

To ease the young man's nervousness, Adama let his facial muscles lose some of their tension. "I'm sorry, Jaffey. I didn't see the point in double-guarding my door, so I dismissed my marines. I didn't know it took a military man to dare an approach," he said in a raspy undertone.

Jaffey relaxed and smiled. "Major Cottle ordered lunch for both you and the President, sir." His words tumbling out in a relieved rush, he continued, "It's a little late, so most everything was gone, but I got together what I could. There are some noodles, and a bit of salad. I didn't know if you'd want it, but there was a fresh pot of coffee brewed, so I brought you a thermos of that. I added a fresh tomato for each of you, too. Hydroponics sent over a few just this morning. They looked good, so..." Realising he was babbling, he let his voice trail off. He'd been glad to have something special to add to the recovering admiral's tray, and prayed to all the gods at once that Cook didn't notice the pilfered produce.

Adama smiled his gratitude at the thoughtful gesture.

"Thank you, private. We hadn't realized the time, or we'd have ordered something ourselves earlier."

"No problem at all, Admiral," Jaffey said readily. "And just so that you know, Doctor Cottle ordered a dinner meal to be brought to you at 1900. He also said to tell you that he expects both you and the President back in Life Station by 2100."

Not noticing the way the Admiral's jaw clenched at that last piece of information, the private gestured toward the inside of the Admiral's quarters with the tray. "Where would you like me to put this, sir?"

Instead of backing away to let the young man carry the tray in and set it on his table, Adama remained where he was and held out his hands. "Thank you. I'll take it from here."

Jaffey paused. Quickly covering his surprise at this change in routine, he released the tray into the Admiral's custody. Reflexively, his eyes curiously scanned the insides of the Admiral's quarters. He noted what he was sure was the President's jacket hanging on the back of a chair and her shoes lying on the floor beside the sofa. She, however, was nowhere in sight. Wondering where she was, he nodded. "Thank you, sir. Enjoy your meal." Taking a step backwards, he blurted impulsively, "It's really good to see you up and about, sir."

Adama smiled slightly. "Thank you, Jaffey. It's good to be back. I'll see you at 1900."

He began to turn, then hesitated. "And if you could get the door for me?"

The young private nodded. After he closed the hatch door behind the Admiral, he turned and walked past the President's guards. As he did so, he held his chin a little higher. Giving them a cool glance, he thought,_ Civilians_.

-xxx-

Laura emerged from using the head and quietly walked over to carefully turn the lock mechanism on the hatch. She then moved to the table and watched as Bill set the tray down, lifted the cloth, and nodded in satisfaction.

He knew he should likely have been angry that Cottle had used food as a way to inveigle one last order about returning to Life Station, but he was hungry, so was willing to set the feeling aside.

To a point.

He looked at Laura. "This," he said in a gruff tone, "is Cottle's apology for being such an ass."

Laura didn't try to suppress her grin. Cottle was the most infuriating man she had ever met, and it was nice to see Bill just as disgruntled by him as she usually was.

"You two are impossible," she said with a chuckle. Playing devil's advocate, she added, "I'm sure he just wants to make sure we're eating."

Bill grunted. "You don't believe that any more than I do. The man's power mad. This is just his way of trying to maintain control. He ordered dinner for us, too. That's his way of giving us his 'permission' to stay here for the rest of the day, if we like. And in case we forgot who is boss, he had Jaffey 'remind' me that we're expected to be back in Life Station by 2100."

He looked down at the tray. His face drawn in stubborn lines, he said, "I _may_ be ready to go back by then; we'll have to see."

He heard a strangled sound and looked up to see Laura trying not to laugh. Ignoring her amusement, he said. "Better have a seat. I need something on my stomach; the alcohol is really hitting me."

After sorting out their food, they ate in relative silence for a while, she because she didn't know how to begin again and because she didn't want to spoil the pleasant mood that they now shared; he simply because he was content to let things lie for a while more. Eventually, desultory comments about the food and about expanding the hydroponics facilities helped pass the time until the meal was almost finished.

There came a point, however, when he knew he had to resume their conversation, and when it was reached he did so by jumping in with both feet. Pouring coffee into a mug, he observed, "It's unsettling to know I can trust you with my life, but nothing else. And harder still to accept that you trust me with even less."

She looked at him, knowing he was wrong. She did trust him. Trusted him in more ways and on more levels than she did anyone else, in fact. But she knew the evidence for that was shaky at best, and appeared to be more along the lines of 'I trust that no matter what I do you'll forgive me' than she liked to admit.

When she didn't respond, he looked up. Her face was deceptively smooth, but her eyes were a tell-tale troubled green. Once again, he was swept with the thought of how alone she was. Regarding her from across the table with a dark gaze, he knew he had the power to make her feel more alone still. At one point not so long ago, he might have been tempted to do so, but that desire - like the anger that would have engendered such an act - was now gone. Once again, events had changed things. Kobol, their time together in Life Station, and even their time together here in his quarters had brought its own sort of healing.

He sighed inwardly. Since the destruction of their worlds, she had borne much and borne it alone. She'd grown, adapted, and changed because of that.

So had he.

When he continued, he gave up all pretense of making their discussion about anything but themselves.

After taking a sip of the still-hot coffee, he placed the mug down, leaned his arms against the edge of the table and folded his hands in the air over his eating bowl. "Shortly after Anne and I first realised how we felt about one another, I did something stupid and we had a huge argument. Afterwards, when we were able to talk rationally, she said something I'll never forget. She said that it was natural that our love would sometimes hurt - but to make our relationship work, we had to make sure that it never hurt either of us too much."

His eyes dark with memories, he said in a low rumble, "It was a simple thought, but of the many things I learned from her, it's probably one of the most important. Anne and I had a good and happy life together because of that bit of wisdom."

He lifted his eyes to meet Laura's. "We need to be careful of one another," he said in a soft tone.

Laura thought of what they'd shared with others and of what they'd shared together.

He had been far more careful than she.

Wondering if this were some sort of gentle rejection, she placed her chopsticks down with a slight clatter. "Has this hurt too much?" she asked.

He looked away, and for what felt like an eternity, remained motionless. Then he shook his head. "No, I don't think so." Turning eyes the colour of midnight to meet hers again, he said something he had never had said aloud to her before.

"I love you."

The simple sentence was spoken with a quiet, gravelly honesty that made her heart stop. It settled in the air between them, creating an electric charge. Before she could respond, he continued, "It took me a while to realise it, but I think I probably have for a very long time." Easing away from the table, he told her, "But our loving each other isn't enough, Laura. Not for us. Not in our situation."

He looked at their almost-empty bowls and placed his napkin on the table. Seeing that she was finished also, he rose and said, "We can clear this later. Let's go sit."

Stunned by his revelation, Laura rose and followed him. She didn't undertand his sudden confession, wasn't sure of its intent. But when they were seated, they sat noticeably closer, and she felt a wash of anticipation ripple through her. They'd thrown things out at one another, perhaps resolved nothing, and yet...She looked at him and knew things were changed. She'd only admitted her feelings to him a short time ago. Now he had admitted his. _Love_. That sentiment anchored everything in a reassuring, solid way that gave her hope.

It didn't, however, answer the question that had brought them there.

They regarded one another silently.

_What had happened before would happen again..._

"So... what are we going to do?" she asked.

He smiled slightly. "I believe that question's been asked."

"But not answered."

"That's what we're going to do now," he said, his voice determined.

-xxx-

After Kara had finished her short CAP tour, Lee updated her on the conversation he'd had with Sharon and Helo.

"_We need to talk to Tigh. No one knows the Old Man better than he does," _she'd said immediately.

Then she'd looked at the clock._ "I've got at least an hour before I have to go harass the nuggets. __Let's find Helo and Sharon before they go pick up their rug rat from day care. We'll all go talk to him and see what he thinks."_

Lee wasn't certain about the closeness that had sprung up on New Caprica between the curmudgeonly Colonel and the hotshot, mouthy pilot, but there was no denying it and he certainly saw no harm in using it if it meant solving their problem. Nodding, he said, "_That's about how much time I have before I brief the first pilot we're sending over to Valerant. He's to be ready to go by 1400."_

"_You didn't send someone over as soon as they sent word the strike was finished?"_ Kara asked

Lee shrugged. _"Dad said as soon as possible. He knows how I set things up. I designed the loan schedule to dovetail with our own duty schedules. Our next shift starts at 1500, so that's when I told Valerant he'd get his first loaner. We couldn't do it any sooner without totally screwing up everything, and the last thing we need is to have someone out there with even less sleep than they're getting already."_

Understanding, Kara nodded and started walking. _"Let's move it then," _she said over her shoulder. _"Any idea where to look for Helo?"_

He looked at her retreating back._ "Shouldn't you ask that _before_ you start walking away?"_ he muttered.

Sighing, he moved to follow her.

-xxx-

Fortunately, Helo and Sharon had been quickly found, and the five of them soon stood in the Damage Control alcove in CIC speaking in low undertones.

Saul grunted in disbelief. First, they'd asked his advice on whether or not anything could be done to ease the tense situation between the President and Adama. Then Kara had ganged up on him and asked him to do what he suspected she'd wanted all along.

"You want _me_ to advise the Admiral to play nice with the President? How many kinds of crazy do you think I am, Thrace? Gods. I'd be taking my life in my hands. I had to live with him after New Caprica, and then deal with his reaction to Roslin and her godsdamned frakking 'return to Kobol' fiasco. I know exactly what he thought about her, and I agreed with him. He can't trust her as far as he can throw her, and he knows it. She's been a good President, but as a human being you can trust..." he shook his head.

Kara almost stomped her feet in frustration. She'd tried every argument she could think of, and Tigh simply refused to bend. Finally, she blurted out, "But he really cares for her!"

Tigh looked at her.

"_Really_ cares for her," she emphasized.

Her words seemed to freeze Tigh in place. After a heartbeat or two, he released his breath with a rush and nodded. She had a point. He thought Bill had probably started feeling a lot more for Roslin than he should have a long time ago. He didn't know if Bill yet realised it, though, and he'd be damned if _he_ was going to be the one to tell him.

"Okaaay..." he said slowly, "I wasn't expecting quite this kind of honesty, but yeah, there is that, but I don't think it's something I'd want to bring up with him just now, okay? He's talking to her, but I don't get the impression he is anywhere near ready to forgive and forget. She really frakked things up between them. Besides, I have no idea how she feels about him."

"She loves him, too."

Everyone turned to look at Helo in surprise. He returned their looks steadily, slightly embarrassed by his statement, but unwilling to back down from it. It was as it was.

"Well, well," Tigh remarked dryly. Examining Agathon with a glittering, grey eye, he said, "So Roslin's got herself a little supporter! Can't say as I'd have expected it to be you."

"She's made some bad decisions. That doesn't make her a bad person, and it doesn't mean she can't feel something for the Admiral._" If anything,_ Helo thought, _it might actually make her a little more human._

"Maybe you're right," the Colonel shot back, "but I wouldn't go near their screwed up relationship for all the tea on Tauron."

He knew Roslin could be a hard, cold bitch when she needed to be. There were times he was pretty sure that the coldness went all the way through. Why Bill wanted anything to do with something like that he was sure he didn't know. And how he had managed to get as far as loving her was totally beyond him. Respect her, sure, but love? He shook his head. It was obvious there was no accounting for tastes when it came to women.

Hard on those cynical thoughts, however, came the memory of the look in Laura Roslin's eyes when he'd told her that the fleet was jumping and leaving Bill Adama on Kobol (had it been only a couple of weeks ago?). It was not something he was likely to ever forget. _Hell, yes, _he thought_ - Laura Roslin loved Bill, but it was a frakked up kind of love, and it hadn't done him an awful lot of good._

Breaking into his thoughts, Kara said, "I think we should be helping them get back onto the right footing. Why shouldn't he have some happiness? She, too, for that matter." Getting back to the core of their issue, she said hopefully, "Maybe if he could settle things between himself and the President, he'd get back to normal on all counts. I still want the old Admiral back. You must know something that would help."

"Wipe that hopeful look off your face," Saul said gruffly. Frowning at her, he added, "And stop looking at me like I'm some godsdamned life line for the lovelorn! Why don't we just let them figure things out for themselves? Hell, maybe they already have," he groused. "They didn't kill one another in Life Station and they were actually civil to one another this morning." He waved a hand. "And now they've managed to not only successfully negotiate a work resumption but have also apparently escaped Cottle and are presently hiding out from him in the Admiral's quarters. Hell, they're probably-"

His mind got several steps ahead of what he was saying, realised where he was going, and stopped his mouth abruptly. _Fraking each other silly _wasn't something he wanted to say aloud. No point in encouraging the young 'uns in their flights of fancy - or in invading Bill's privacy any more than it had been already.

Her mind nimbly following Tigh's thoughts, however, Kara grinned widely.

Saul groaned inwardly. Twisting his face so that he smiled like a mule eating briars, he was unable to hide his desperation to end the conversation as he told them, "They'll do fine! Let's just forget about it, shall we? There's no point in worrying about them."

Ignoring Tigh's last few words, Kara looked at Lee with wide eyes. "Gods! I hadn't thought of that! Of course! They've been getting along okay! They're in his quarters! That's probably a really good thing." She grinned. "There'd be no better place- I mean, they'd hardly want to use their room in Life Station. People are always in and out of there, and his rack is probably more comf-"

Lee interrupted her with a pained exclamation. "Kara!" he said, "This is my father you're talking about. Could you _please _try to hold back just a little?"

Kara laughed, and then suddenly sobered. "Frak," she muttered. Voicing her thoughts, she said, "They had sex on Kobol, but it didn't fix anything for them. She turned toward Helo. "Maybe-"

Tigh interrupted her.

"They had_ what_ on Kobol?"

Kara looked at him, thought back on what had just been said, then opened her eyes wider. "Oh. You wouldn't know. They weren't getting along very well while we were on the planet, either. Lee's father left the camp one afternoon and Roslin followed him. We just figured it was to go have another argument with him. They were gone so long we got worried, though, so we decided to go see if they were okay. We found them having sex by the river."

Lee winced and turned away slightly. "_You_ found them," he corrected.

Tigh's face smoothed and he bit back a guffaw as he absorbed this new information. His lips curling into a smirk, he asked, "And what did they have to say about you two walking in on _that_?"

Kara looked affronted. "They don't know we saw them. We'd never have let them know _that_! Think how embarrassed they'd have been!"

Lee looked at her askance. "Yeah, because you're always _so_ thoughtful of other people's sensibilities..."

Tigh ignored the exchange. "You saw them? Damn! So they _are_ doing it! I'll be a horse's ass," he muttered. "The sneaky old fart..."

Busy with her own train of thought, Kara ignored Tigh's musings and turned back to Helo. "You saw them last; do you think they went to his quarters to try to work things out?"

Helo shrugged. Still taken aback by Kara's latest revelation, he said, "I can't believe you didn't say anything about them having sex! How could you know something like that and not mention it? Which time did it happen, anyway?" Doubt clouded his features. "Are you sure you saw what you think you saw?"

Knowing Kara was prepared to describe exactly what she'd seen in greater detail, Sharon eyed her husband. It would take him a while to get over the visual of his commanding officer and the President that Kara had just given him. Deciding he didn't need any more fodder for that particular fire, she spoke.

"They seemed comfortable with one another," she said, forestalling Kara's response. "The President was very shaken by the scare he gave us during the negotiations, and she was more than happy to go with him when he invited her to his quarters."

Kara looked at her sharply. "He invited her?"

Sharon nodded. "I got that impression, yes."

"Well, that's a good sign," Kara said. "If he asked her, then this is something planned. I figure the sex on Kobol was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing-"

"Kara!" Lee admonished, "Enough about the sex already!"

She looked at him indignantly. "Sex isn't a crime, Lee! And it _must_ have been something unexpected! Look at the way they were acting when they got back to the camp! Sometimes one thing leads to another. You get carried away, and you simply can't help yourself - but it doesn't mean you're happy with yourself afterwards!"

Not needing the mental picture of his father and the President and one thing leading to another, Lee winced. "Please. I'm begging you. Shut up."

Tigh shook his head.

"Look, kids, all this supposition isn't getting us anywhere. And I'm not sure how comfortable I am debating the Old Man's sex life with his kids. Let's just wait until we can visit them in Life Station. We'll know by the way they're acting where they stand with one another."

Kara, now totally gleeful, and convinced that there was now no need for any intervention from Tigh, wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "My money's on their having worked it out." She looked out into CIC at the clock. "They've been in his quarters for hours now. They can't have spent the whole time fighting."

Knowing both the Old Man's and the President's capacity for argument, Tigh wasn't so sure about that. Then again, this whole sex thing had kind of boggled his mind, so he wasn't sure he could trust his judgement just now. He grunted skeptically. Spreading his arms as though ushering small children along, he exclaimed, "Well, that's wonderful! Another sign that the path of true love is running smoothly!" Making shooing motions with his hands, he added in a long-suffering tone, "And since the signs and omens are so good, why don't we end this discussion and start using the CIC for what it was designed for?" He looked up through the glass of Damage Control, and prayed no one had been reading lips.

He didn't want to have to threaten to air lock anybody.

End  
Chapter 32

I've only got to write the very ending of the next chapter and this will be finished. Even the epilogue is done! Some people have probably drifted off through boredom, frustration, or disappointment in the direction I've taken things, but to those of you still hanging in, thanks for your patience - and for the reviews and the support and the smiles. It's been a long process. Remember to take me out and shoot me if I fall for the idea of writing something long again and start to post things before I've got it completely written!

Take care. I'll see you with the next chapter early next week.


	33. Rapprochement

First: Apologies for taking so long to post this. I also apologise for it being so long. If it's any comfort, at one point it was almost twice the length you find here. I've hacked away at it to make it more manageable - and hopefully more readable. Wrapping things up was difficult, and the temptation to go off on a couple tangents was hard to resist at one point, but I don't think it would have served the story very well. This, except for the ever-changing epilogue I'm now fighting with, is it. Story over.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing as I posted this story. It was encouraging, and the most awesome experience I've ever had in posting here. I really appreciate that you took time to let me know you were out there and reading!

Did I mention lately that only the characters I invented myself are mine? That the rest have just been brought out to play?

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

* * *

**Chapter 33**

**Rapprochement **

Bill's hand felt strong and solid, and it covered hers with comfortable, familiar gentleness. As he began to absentmindedly caress her palm with the tips of his fingers, Laura welcomed the shiver of awareness that coursed through her. More than anything, she wanted to concentrate only on that skin-to-skin touch, wanted to focus only on the warmth of a physical connection with him she had missed too much. Closing her eyes, she began to let that hyper-awareness extend to all of her body...She didn't want to think anymore...didn't want anything but to be here, with him, like this...

His voice rumbled across her consciousness.

"You said that what matters is what's here, between us." He looked at her carefully. "But what do we do about it? What if it's a better idea for us to let go of what's between us?"

Her eyes flew open as she recoiled.

_Let go?_

She gripped his hand tightly. Cautious of where he was going with this, she waited a moment before speaking.

"I don't think I understand," she said slowly.

"I'm asking if we can deal with one another on a personal level and still guide what's left of humanity to Earth."

There was a moment's silence. Finally, she responded, "We were doing okay before. We're human beings, Bill. We live, we do our job, and we were lucky enough to find each other." Finding an exhilarating sense of freedom in speaking about how she felt aloud, she said, "Love is the most human emotion there is. I don't think the gods would ask us to give it up in order to save humanity. Where would be the point?"

A hint of amusement flashed in his eyes. "I wouldn't know. You've been on better speaking terms with them than I."

Though his response had been tongue-in-cheek, she answered him seriously. "The gods ask for sacrifices, but they don't ask us to become something we're not, or demand us to give up a part of what makes us human. We're fighting against machines incapable of love. The gods wouldn't ask us to turn our backs on that emotion in order to fight them. It wouldn't make sense."

He shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, the gods have never made sense. Why would they start now? But if you think so, I'm sure you're right." He looked at her for a long, solemn moment. Thinking of Sharon, he wasn't so sure what she'd said about the cylons and love was true, but he knew that wasn't important just now, it was simply another one of those things they would disagree on until something happened to make one of them change their mind. Shifting his thoughts, he finally spoke.

"So we're in agreement. We're not going to let this go. If that's the case, we need to figure out how we're going to approach things. We haven't done such a great job of it so far. I think for this to work, we need a framework. Our affair just started - almost, it seemed, out of the blue. It worked all right at first, but it sprang from a random impulse we acted upon without thinking."

"It may have been a 'random impulse we acted on', but it was what we'd wanted for quite a while," she reminded him bluntly.

It had been _exactly_ what they'd wanted. In the early days of humanity's flight from the cylons, they'd quickly learned to respect one another. It hadn't taken long after that for them to admit to an attraction. Momentum had inexorably carried them from there. Neither of them, however, had expected what had been developing between them to be anything more than two people in certain positions of power enjoying one another occasionally.

Remembering the argument that had led to their first sexual encounter, Bill's eyes glinted with amusement. "There's no doubt it's what we _wanted_," he said. "I think we were quite _definite_ about it being what we wanted." With a knowing smile he squeezed her hand and continued, "Power sex is a heady thing, especially if you can list dozens of reasons why you shouldn't allow yourself to indulge and choose to indulge anyway."

_That first time, when they had first touched, first allowed the embers they knew lay burning to ignite, they'd insisted on trying to keep perspective. Laura had whispered, "This is a bad idea."_

_Removing his mouth from her skin, Bill had taken a moment to agree. "We should stop," he'd said, loving her softness and the way she held onto him and arched her neck encouragingly._

_"My detail is just outside. They'll wonder what's taking so long," she'd murmured. Her breath had hitched as his hands wandered over her body, and, having already divested him of his uniform top, she'd quickly worked to untuck his undershirts._

_"My marines, too," he'd agreed as her hands slid beneath his shirts and over the skin of his back. "They gossip like old women." He'd smoothly lifted her skirt to her waist, grasped her buttocks, then pressed himself against her._

_She'd groaned when she felt his hardness against her. And bitten his shoulder and wrapped one leg around him in order to press herself more tightly against him._

_"I'll be late getting back. Billy will-" Her words were muffled as his lips covered hers and his tongue explored the inside of her mouth again._

_He'd then begun a slow walk towards his rack. _

_Neither missed a beat, their hands and mouths busy. _

_"If there were even a suggestion that we were involved, there'd be hell to pay," he'd rasped. "We shouldn't do this."  
_

_"You're right. Gods, the Quorum would have a field day," she'd agreed, slipping out of her shoes as he guided her backwards to his bed._

_"The press would tear you and your administration apart. We can't do this," he'd said._

_"No. We can't," she'd admitted. When the back of her legs hit his rack, she'd stopped and begun to work on the waist of his pants. _

_He unbuttoned her skirt. _

_While divesting themselves of the rest of their clothes, they'd both continued to agree having sex was foolish, political suicide, and a bad, dangerous idea that they should avoid at all costs... _

_The sex between them had been energetic and frenetic and wonderfully satisfying; they'd left marks, their arousal had been pitched higher than they could remember it ever having been, and they had indulged themselves with determined abandon._

_It was an effect, they were certain, of months spent in anticipation. _

_Deciding it had been over too soon, they'd compensated by agreeing that there were more important matters to discuss than anyone realised and that more consultation was necessary. Thus, they were able to grant themselves more time to explore and enjoy each other a second time around before they both, dressed and with files firmly in hand, solemnly emerged from his quarters._

_For days after, during moments he could allow his thoughts to wander, he'd had a difficult time keeping a grin off his face. When she threw him the occasional satisfied smirk during a meeting, it had been almost impossible.  
_

He looked at her with deep, darkened eyes. "Our problem was that things quickly turned from a comfortable convenience into something else entirely."

"Something neither comfortable nor convenient," she observed. The want had quickly seemed to turn to need. She looked down at their entwined fingers and wondered if it had perhaps always been 'something else entirely' and they'd just been too blind to see it. Whatever the case, there were definitely times she regretted the complication that emotions had added to the situation. It would all have been much easier had things between them remained a simple, physical activity done in secret.

His lips curved slightly. "We've always known it'll never be convenient," he said, squeezing her fingers gently. "Too many opportunities for discovery." His smile dropped away as he continued, "I can live with inconvenience, though. What I can't live with is being uncomfortable, and to be comfortable, I need trust." Releasing her hand, he turned more fully onto one hip, crossed one leg over the other, and regarded her with dark eyes. Some of the iron control and remote manner that had become such a part of him since New Caprica returned; the anger may have left him, but not the memories, or the lessons learned.

"I can't live with the way we've been treating one another. I can't live with lies and hidden agendas from the woman I love, either on a personal or professional level. We don't stand a chance if we can't trust one another."

Thinking of the turmoil in the fleet that was only now beginning to resolve itself, he said, "We have to make this work, because if we can't, more than just our relationship will be destroyed. Valerant was right; the cost of our failure would be too high."

He looked at her and wondered if they were crazy to even consider this.

And rather thought they were.

_But in a most wonderfully human way..._

They balanced one another. If he needed to occasionally warn her about losing her humanity, then sobeit. If she needed to save him from becoming lost in his, that was fine, too. There was a synchronicity to it, and he thought it an effective means by which to ensure there was equilibrium in the way the fleet was guided.

But trust was the glue needed to hold things together, and he needed to know that she was prepared to give it. Prepared to offer it himself, but understanding how much more difficult it would be for her, he held her gaze and asked, "Can we do that? Can we - can you - find enough trust to make it work?"

-xxx-

She stared at him.

_Trust_. It was a small word, but for her a sometimes difficult one. She wasn't sure it was something you could just say you had and it would appear, and she'd never been at ease with it. She did, however, know that honesty and openness were indicators of it. Those she could do. It would be a start.

Taking a deep breath, she held his gaze firmly. Almost desperately afraid, but determined to hold her ground, she warned, "I'm going to continue to make decisions you don't agree with. There will be lines I need to cross that you won't be happy with. I don't see any way around that - it's the nature of my job...it's the nature of our situation."

Bill relaxed. "You mean 'desperate times call for desperate measures'? Up to a point, I'm with you. And I don't expect us to always agree, Laura. We never have, so there's no reason to think we'd start now. Disagreement is something we can live with. What we can't live with is a lack of trust. Life is difficult and complicated enough. We need to be honest with one another. Our professional and personal lives are too intertwined to separate. We have to accept that fact and lead our lives accordingly."

The air between them held a thoughtful silence before he continued, "We're going to face a lot of crises before we find Earth. The important thing is that we know where we differ, understand that differing isn't a betrayal, and move on. Together."

Laura withdrew a little bit. Love wasn't an easy thing at the best of times. Now, here, in these circumstances...In their _particular_ circumstance...

Referring back to what he'd said about Anne's lesson on love, she warned him, "We're going to hurt each other. It's inevitable."

He didn't deny it.

Determined now to see this through, he admitted, "Of course it is. But it doesn't have to hurt too much; not if we trust each other and in the people around us." Wanting to draw her attention to a bigger picture, he told her, "Sometimes we forget that we're not alone. There are other people who care for you and for me and who care about the fleet. Sharing makes things easier. It helps buffer the hurt; helps give us perspective."

She stared at him, thinking he didn't understand her position, then realised he wasn't talking about final authority for decision making or assuming ultimate responsibility - which of course were hers alone - but the support on a personal level that one needed afterward, when, for good or bad, the dust from those decisions settled on those around you.

Remembering the scene in Life Station earlier that morning and the warm feeling of unity she'd witnessed amongst the uniformed men and women, she nodded. She'd seen that kind of support for him and envied it.

"You make it sound so simple," she said softly.

"No," he disagreed, "Letting yourself get close to others on some level makes things more complicated." The pain of it had sent him on a suicide run; made him crazy in a way he'd never thought possible. "Look at us. We're complicated. _Very_ complicated. It makes us stronger in the long run, though. And more human."

Her eyes softened. He was a strong man, a man set firmly in his beliefs, and one who made swift, hard decisions in times of crisis. He was also a man given to an idealism that sometimes shocked her with its naivety. Able to make split-second decisions that could spell life or death for hundreds of men and women, he could still twist and turn like a hanged man when asked in the name of duty to step over a moral or ethical line he felt shouldn't be crossed. Who would suspect that he tortured himself so much over right and wrong? He was a patriot, a soldier, a humanitarian; he was a loyal friend, and a solid, respected - perhaps even beloved - leader. He had also failed miserably as a husband to his children's mother, was an uncertain parent, too tolerant a friend, and a man who sometimes too readily turned a blind eye to human frailties...

She sighed. Such a mix of qualities...

But then, she was a school teacher charged with the survival of what was left of the human race. Still not always sure of her abilities, she sometimes couldn't believe she'd made a snap decision to airlock someone. She'd been called upon to make decisions that had resulted in the death of thousands, had kidnapped a newborn, survived cylon detention, given orders that would have made many quail on any number of grounds - all with no apology to anyone.

She was a leader, and she led, making whatever hard decisions were necessary as she went.

But it didn't mean she was never lonely or uncertain.

And now she loved William Adama with a heart she hadn't even known she possessed.

And had never felt so afraid. Nor so unwilling to give something up.

It all, she decided, made them both very, very human...

Dragging her thoughts back to their conversation, she felt something settle inside her. When all was said and done, they were the perfect match. He had the strength to stand up to her and the wisdom to know when to quietly stand back. She trusted his truth. He upheld hers.

Finally, she smiled. "There's nothing wrong with being more human. Nothing at all."

-xxx-

Drinking in her smile, it finally struck him fully.

_She loved him. _

Really and truly.

It occurred to him suddenly what a leap of trust that was for her. He mulled the thought around in his brain. _She trusted him enough to allow herself to love him. _She felt herself alone, carried the weight of thousands of lives on her shoulders, and yet she had finally trusted enough in herself and in him to admit to an emotion that made her vulnerable.

"You love me," he said aloud, his voice holding all the wonder he felt at that fact.

"I do," she admitted, her voice somehow holding surprise and fear and resolve all at once.

In that moment he decided it was all the trust he needed.

"Then I guess that settles it," he said easily.

They slowly smiled at one another. He lifted an arm, and she moved toward him.

_What had happened before would happen again._

-xxx-

"Dr. Cottle!" a bright voice called out. "I've been looking for you! I'm back from the Museum Bay."

Cottle turned. Recognising the medic he'd sent with Adama and Roslin that morning, he resisted the urge to cuff the young man's ears when he drew to a stop in front of him. Instead, he tightly reined in his temper and in a deceptively calm voice asked, "And what were you doing there, Smithers?"

The young medic looked surprised. "Captain Agathon didn't tell you? The Admiral ordered me to go there to check up on one of his marines. He wanted to make sure that there was a report ready for his family when they called the desk the President set up for patient enquiries."

"That was very kind of you," Cottle said, his voice still misleadingly mild. "It's too bad you forgot one important thing..."

Smithers looked uncertain. "Sir?"

Cottle thought about trying to stifle his irritation for a while longer, but then decided _what the hell_.

Finally snapping, his voice hardened as he rasped, "You weren't supposed to _be_ there! You take orders from me, Smithers,_ not_ from the Admiral, _not_ from the President, _not_ from anyone else. I sent you to take care of the Admiral and the President because _you_ were the best person available! I trusted you to follow orders. Very _specific_ orders." His voice increased in volume. "Among which was _returning them to Life Station! And _you were to update me on their medical status as soon as you returned. I'm _still_ waiting for them to return, and I'm still waiting for you to update me, and you've all been back for hours!"

The medic's look of confusion would have been comic had Cottle been in a better mood.

"I don't understand..." he said weakly.

"No, you wouldn't, because _you_ weren't here to see that theydidn't come_ back _to Life Station! In fact, they're _still _not back, and _I _still haven't had the opportunity to evaluate the Admiral's status since his little episode on the _Gideon_. The _reason_ I haven't been able to is that _you_ didn't make sure they returned - and worse, you didn't bother to report to me when they took off for places unknown."

"But Captain Agathon said-"

"I don't give a flying frak _what_ Captain Agathon said, and I don't care who ordered him to say it!" Cottle growled. Revving himself up for a good tirade, he heard a gentle clearing of a throat. Turning, he saw Meyes, and lost some of his momentum.

"Dammit, woman, what do you want?"

She looked at him and then at the quailing medic. Serendipity was about to save Smithers' ass.

"The test results are ready, sir," she said.

Cottle glared at Smithers. He opened his mouth, then turned his gaze back towards Meyes.

She saw curiosity bloom in his eyes, and smiled inwardly.

Turning his attention back on the hapless medic, Cottle said gruffly, "We'll talk more about the line of command later, just so you're clear on it. I suggest you get out your procedure manual and brush up!"

With that, he turned and walked down the corridor. Over his shoulder, he growled, "Shake a leg, Meyes, I don't have all night!"

Giving Smithers a pointed look, she whispered, "Don't just brush up._ Memorize _that frakking thing!"

Turning, she followed the doctor.

-xxx-

She moved easily into his embrace. Resting comfortably against him, Laura relaxed. He was warm and solid and she felt safe, and, for this one, brief moment of time, they both felt hidden from the fleet and its problems and the reminders they faced every day that the cylons could return and they might all die.

Murmuring against his chest, she softly said, "I'm sorry."

His memory now intact, he could remember when she had said that before.

_Rain had slid down his cheeks like tears. Pain had arced through him, sending fierce jots of fire burning along his nerves. He'd never felt anything like it before, not even when Boomer had shot him.  
_

_But none of it had hurt so much as when he'd felt her body slowly grow limp as life left it..._

He tightened his embrace. "I don't want you to be sorry," he rasped. "It's over. We did what we did. And thanks to you, I'm alive to say it. But now we start on a different footing." Putting gentle fingers beneath her chin, he moved so that he could meet her eyes. "We're going to survive."

She nodded, and time seemed to slow as he bent his head. Carefully, lovingly, his mouth touched hers. Teasing her lips, he re-acquainted himself with their softness.

_Gods, he'd missed her..._

_And she'd missed him..._

Her heart pounded as she gently broke away. Clearing her throat she said huskily, "Well...I'm all for survival..."

He looked at her and for the first time since he'd regained consciousness felt a rush of gladness that he was alive. He would need to ask her forgiveness for running away, would need to ask for her understanding of what had led him to leave with no intention to return.

His lips breathed against her mouth.

She stilled suddenly, and carefully pulled back.

Looking deeply into his eyes, she smiled. It was a brilliant, blinding smile of realisation.

_Trust._

She did.

And so this time, it was she who moved forward. She caressed his lips with the tips of her fingers, then moved closer so that her lips met his. She felt him relax, felt him begin a kiss that held so much promise she almost shied away from its intensity. But this time, she let herself go. She trusted this, trusted him, and trusted a future that saw them together...

Placing her hand on the nape of his neck, she slid backward, relishing his weight on her as he followed her lead.

_It had happened before; it would happen again..._

-xxx-

After a time, they'd decided the sofa was not where they wanted to continue their lovemaking. Standing beside his rack, she removed his uniform jacket and murmured, "What does it say about us that we're heading straight to sex now that we've sorted things out?"

He chuckled. Fumbling with a button at the waist of her blouse, he asked, "You'd rather we shook hands?"

She grinned. "Ummm, no."

"Then let's enjoy this. Dinner will be arriving before we know it, and after that, we'll need to head for Life Station before Cottle throws another fit."

Liking the idea of 'enjoying this' and smiling at the way he'd reminded her that even their makeup sex was on a schedule, she smiled and relaxed into their foreplay. Her body trembling with anticipation, she moved her hands roughly across his chest. The bindings covering his wounds reminded her of how close they had come to never having this chance at reconciliation.

_The gods were good._

Emotion overcoming her, she drew her arms up over his shoulders and hugged him close. Tilting her hips against him, she felt his instinctive pressure back and smiled when he groaned and held her more tightly.

"It's been too long."

Gently taking his ear lobe between her teeth, she murmured, "I've missed you." He tasted good, he smelled good-

Her breath caught as his hands smoothed their way across her breasts.

-and what he did felt good...

They used everything they knew about the other to build their anticipation to a screaming point, heightening their physical responses tenfold as they slowly moved against one another. A kiss here, a touch there, a caress designed to tantalise and pleasure. Hands, skin, movement...when he entered her, she shuddered in welcome, then moved with him as they played out their rhythm until it all finally melded into a perfect moment, a perfect crescendo of heart and soul and body and mind.

Later, his body replete and his heart full, he shifted to look at her. She lay peacefully, her lips curved in contentment, her eyes closed. No matter where she was or what she was doing, he would always think her beautiful.

And dangerous.

But life itself was dangerous, and without her, it wasn't worth living. It was a weakness, perhaps, but one he would live with willingly.

Feeling his scrutiny, she opened her eyes. "Hello there."

"Hello."

Moving to rest her head on his shoulder, Laura sighed contentedly as their bodies aligned themselves. There was much to be said for gaining comfort where one could. They found it in each other in spades.

"Let's not ever lose this again."

"I've no doubt we'll do our best, but I'm sure things won't always be smooth sailing."

Nodding, she enjoyed the way his voice rumbled against her ear.

"No surprise there," she said.

Unexpectedly, she felt a tremor as he tightened his hold on her and gently chuckled. "No, I guess not."

She smiled, the warm vibration of his laughter making her feel safe and secure.

Slowly, however, the smile left her lips. Lifting her head, she held his gaze. "We're a lifetime away from what we want, aren't we?" she said sadly.

He looked at her. "Well, that cabin of ours is a long way off, but loving you is good. Your loving me is good. We can hold onto that. We'll find Earth, Laura. We'll be okay."

She lay back down and tightened her arms around him. For a moment more she would be able to hold her fear at bay. She'd lost everything and everyone when the colonies had fallen. In him she had found a soul mate, a help meet, and a friend and a lover.

So much to find in one man.

Bill held on to her. They'd provided support, strength, refuge, and hope for one another when it had been needed most. They had stumbled and fallen apart, but they were back on their feet and together again. There was depth to what they felt for one another; depth and meaning and a warm truth.

And, finally, there was trust.

To achieve that, there could have been no cost too high...

_It was as it should have been. _

End  
Chapter 34

Good lord. I am a very sick person. If you believe this, I just threw in a new scene while getting ready to post this. Damn. I can't leave anything alone. I've gone and made it longer again. So I'm going to upload this quickly before I find something _else_ to say...

Cajun13, I'm sorry I couldn't respond to let you know why I was running so late with this, but I appreciate your gentle reminder. Mendys, I owe you a reply in regard to your well considered comments about my use/abuse of poor Laura in this. Thank you for them. I keep telling you that I like the way you make me look at things from a different perspective. That opinion hasn't changed!

So now it's just the runaway epilogue. ARRGGGHH! Having learned from experience NOT to guess when I'll be posting, I'm going to keep my mouth shut this time. But since I'm going away in a few weeks, I know I have a time limit...

Thanks for reading. It's going to feel strange not to have this story to work on...


	34. Containment

Back again with a little more! Things are finally grinding to a halt... Thanks to everyone for taking the time to review. You know it's appreciated!

While I was away, there was an interesting discussion on Skiffy. I'm not sure who started it (I have a LOT of catching up to do) but there's a scene in this chapter that kinda reminds me of that conversation... So I'll dedicate it to the AR thread there.

Disclaimer: As always, I'm just messing around with them, and fully acknowledge that only Meyes is mine - and please note I never mean to offend**.  
**

* * *

**  
Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 34**

**Containment **

Having finally finished messing with the minds of young nuggets, Kara gravitated back to Lee's office and sat on the other side of his desk. Her feet resting comfortably on its paper-strewn top, she silently perused a newspaper she'd confiscated during the briefing. After a short while, she looked up.

"How do you suppose they get hold of these rumours and print them so fast?" she asked.

Lee grimaced at his work as her words filtered into his consciousness. It made no sense to him that 40,000 or so people required more than one daily newspaper, let alone the odd assortment of dailies and weeklies that seemed to abound amongst the fleet. He strongly suspected, however, that it boiled down to people's endless capacity for gossip. On _Galactica_, the two most popular papers were _The Morning Post_, which reported what might be considered 'real' news, and _The Evening Watch_, which concentrated on amusing people with the latest lies, speculation, rumour, and gossip. He thought it telling that the evening paper was always the thicker and more anticipated of the two.

Shifting his attention away from his paperwork, he looked up and again felt torn by the enjoyment he got from Kara's presence he knew he had no right to feel. Shrugging at her question, his voice was unconcerned when he asked, "What rag are you reading and what are they going on about this time?"

"_The Evening Watch_. They're talking about your father," she answered. Tossing the paper across the desk to him, she added, "And Roslin."

He frowned. "My father and the President?"

Now more interested, he reached out and pulled the paper closer.

The headline made him groan.

_Adama and Roslin:  
Has a Close Call Brought Them Closer? _

blazed across the front page in large, red letters. It was accompanied by an old, grainy photograph he knew had been taken pre-New Caprica. It caught his father and Roslin in a moment of shared amusement as he guided her though a hatchway, and he had seen it used more than once to illustrate this sort of article. He'd always known it was simply one of those shots caught by accident and taken out of context, but now that he knew what he knew, it screamed an intimacy that shouldn't have been there. There was, he realised, something about the way his father held her arm and looked down at her... and something about the way she looked up at him and smiled...

His eyes quickly skimmed the 'story'.

Finished, he tossed it away from him in disgust. "That's garbage."

Kara disagreed. "They're usually pretty desperate for scandal, but this time, they're kinda on the right track, don't you think?" Moving her hands, she explained, "It's obvious they _have_ been fighting, and it _did_ create a lot of worry and unrest, and they_ have_ spent considerable time together since returning from Kobol a couple weeks ago."

Lee scoffed at the idea. "In Life Station, with my father in a coma, and only because there was no room to keep them separate!" he reminded her.

"Yeah, but the papers don't care about _that _part," she said. "And this article was based mainly just on the fact that they negotiated with Valerant together. Think what they'd be saying if the knew where they went _after_ those talks. Your father taking the President to his quarters to frak around for a few hours would make for some really interesting 'news'." She grinned at Lee's reaction to her choice of words and said, "Oh, come on! If they can do it in the great outdoors, they can manage it in the comfort of your father's rack!" She hesitated as a thought appeared to occur to her. "Unless," she continued more slowly, "they've got some sort of weird fetish even _I_ don't want to know about..." Her voice trailed off and she pretended to crease her brow in thought.

"Kara, don't start," Lee admonished. "And please remember that _they,_" he said, indicating the paper, "don't know anything about what my father and Roslin were doing in the great outdoors on Kobol! On top of that_, we_ don't know if they're 'doing it' now, either. Who says they've made up? My father doesn't get over his moods easily, remember, and he can hold a grudge forever."

Understanding that Lee's view of his father would never be like her own, Kara resisted getting into an argument with him over the Admiral's capacity for forgiving and forgetting. Instead, she said, "Well, Helo and Sharon said they were getting along fine, and they should know. My guess is that whether the Old Man and Roslin are indulging themselves or not, there are gonna be rumours flying around like crazy if they aren't more careful, and that's a problem. With the fleet in the unsettled state it is, there could be some serious political fallout if anyone realises some of this so-called 'speculation' is true. People are already afraid, off-balance and discontented. They don't need an excuse to feel more so." She shook her head. "The political ramifications of this could have a serious effect on Roslin's presidency..."

Lee looked at her in surprise. Since when had _she_ become interested in the 'political ramifications' of anything? He sighed. The universe was going crazy. But she was also right. Holing up in his father's quarters together on their first day out of Life Station probably wasn't the most discreet thing they could have chosen to do. They were obviously neither thinking clearly nor considering how their actions might be interpreted. As Kara said, if the press discovered where they'd been all this time, there'd be hell to pay. An occasional rumour about the two of them was to be expected, but to give rumour something concrete to base itself on...that was dangerous.

He took a moment to wish back his previous state of blissful ignorance, then muttered, "What were they thinking? Going there was just plain stupid. And why would they need to be there so long? Thank gods the press aren't allowed free access around here, or they'd be waiting outside my father's door already."

Kara grinned. "Ya think?" Sobering quickly, she said, "They'll need to come up with a cover story and find their way back to Life Station ASAP. Someone needs to warn them what's up."

Lee almost visibly backed away from the thought. Before he could voice his refusal, however, Kara offered, "I'll go, if you like."

Immediately wary, he changed his mind. "No, that's all right. I should probably-" he began doubtfully.

Kara waved her hand. "No, it's okay. Really. I'll be quick and I'll be discreet."

Lee shot her a look of wide-eyed disbelief.

"I promise," she said, trying to keep a straight face.

He continued to look at her, his blue eyes sceptical. Kara was practically humming with mischief. Still, in spite of his reluctance to let her go, he didn't want to discuss this particular issue with his father himself. Knowing he was going to have to let her handle it, he said, "You don't have a discreet bone in your body, Kara. I swear, if you make one comment to them about anything related to sex, racks, river banks or..." His voice trailed of as the numerous possibilities overwhelmed him.

Ever helpful, Kara turned her eyes toward the ceiling and began to count off on her fingers, "...Desks, bulkheads, your father's sofa..." She looked at him and winked, saying "Which must be really awesome," then returned her gaze ceiling ward to blithely continue, "...the lounge chairs on _Colonial One_, the shower - his _or_ hers, I suppose - the boardroom table, the-"

"Yes. Okay. That's enough," Lee interrupted. "The point is, I don't want them to even vaguely suspect that we know about them. You mention _anything_ I might even _possibly_ object to of a sexual nature in their presence - _including_ locations and positions - and I'll have your hide."

"Ooooooh," she said with a grin. Her influence was slowly taking effect. _Positions_ hadn't even occurred to her. "Was that a threat, Lee?" Shrugging with feigned indifference, she said, "I guess you're right, then. Maybe you'd better go yourself. It might be easier for him to hear about this from you."

His bluff too easily called, Lee tried not to shudder. There was no way he was going to put himself through the embarrassment of interrupting something - or even hinting that he was aware of what they did with each other in their spare time.

Embarrassed by his own thoughts, he winced, then looked at Kara. Nothing embarrassed _her_.

"Maybe we could just call them," he suggested. "We could suggest they have a look at tonight's paper..."

Kara snorted. "Yeah, right. Like they're going to go out and pick up a paper because we say there's an interesting article in it. We'd still have to explain which one and why. And wouldn't a reporter just love to get wind that they were buying papers to read news about themselves."

"Okay, okay. Someone has to talk to them directly, then," Lee conceded.

"So do you want to go, or not?" Kara asked.

Lee shook his head in defeat. "You want to go, you go. But do it right. Just quietly tell my father you're concerned by something you read in the paper, and you knew he'd want to know about it. Then I want you to give him your copy and get the hell out of there and let him and Roslin figure out for themselves what they're going to do. Do _not_," he repeated, "let them know that we know about them."

Kara nodded and rose. Folding the paper neatly, she put it under her arm and grinned at him happily. Her game plan only involved heavily hinting, so she'd be fine. Loving the unknown of what she'd find and of how she'd handle it when the moment came, she said, "This has been the most fun day I've had in a long time, and it just keeps getting better!"

Lee groaned. "Behave yourself," he pleaded.

Kara laughed aloud. Lee was coming around to the idea of the Old Man and Roslin being together, she was sure of it.

"You could come with me," she said. Her voice choking with laughter, she added, "C'mon. We could talk to Mom and Dad together. Maybe explain the dangers of being indiscreet."

Still laughing, she ducked the pen he tossed at her and left.

-xxx-

Adama and Roslin emerged from his quarters to find Lieutenant Gaeta waiting patiently outside the hatch with a sheaf of papers in his hand.

Adama smiled slightly. After nodding a greeting and guessing why the young officer was there, he asked, "Cottle doesn't know you're here, does he?"

The young officer shook his head. "No sir, not that I know of." Truly glad to see his commanding officer looking so well, he said a heartfelt, "It's good to see you, sir."

Adama nodded. "Thank you, lieutenant. It's good to be getting back into the swing of things."

Feeling the need to apologise for this unexpected ambush, Gaeta said, "Sorry Admiral, but Colonel Tigh sent me here right after you notified him you were leaving for Life Station. He was sure you'd want to go over some of this on your way there."

Unable to resist taking this opportunity to once again circumnavigate Cottle's rest order, Bill glanced at Laura, then said, "Not a problem. What've you got?"

Used to conferring with his commanding officer as he moved from one part of the ship to another, Gaeta easily fell into formation with the Admiral as he and the President began to walk down the corridor. Looking at the top sheet of paper in his hand, he said, "Richard Valerant called for you, sir. He said thank you for the first loan pilot, wishes to inform you that supply runs have resumed, and reports that two ships are still refusing to allow shuttles to return to them."

Biting back a frustrated curse at people's stupidity, Bill ordered the obvious: "Have Colonel Tigh ask Valerant to remind the captains of those ships that one of the provisions of today's agreement is that no ship with shuttles outstanding will be placed on the supply routes. That should soon bring them into line quickly enough."

Nodding, Gaeta turned to the next item on the list. Glancing at Roslin to include her in this one, he said, "I'm not sure if the President is aware of this yet, but early this afternoon the captain of _Colonial One_ requested docking in our repair hangar until further notice. There's a problem with their air exchange system, and they're worried that the strain of another FTL jump could knock it out completely."

Adama's brow creased in concern. "Why was the problem allowed to get so serious?"

Gaeta shrugged. "It sounds like it got worse fast, sir. They put in a request to have someone look at it a few days before the strike. We were already short of technicians because of the bacterial infection, and other things took precedence. Then things got really crazy and we simply haven't had anyone to send. We've got a few techs who should be back on their feet soon, but looking at the backlog of requests we've got, we still can't put_ Colonial One _at the top of the list. We've got problems out there on ships that won't fit into our hanger that need to be looked at first." He looked at Adama and said honestly, "I can't say when we'll be able to have someone look at _Colonial One_, sir, but at least if the ship's onboard, she and her crew will be safe."

Adama shared a look with Roslin, who quickly looked down at the passing corridor floor. Gaeta was certain she was trying to hide a smile.

"Then by all means, have _Colonial One _dock as soon as possible," the Admiral said. Without looking at Laura, he added, "You'll also need to make arrangements for the President's use of our guest quarters. I believe Doctor Cottle will be releasing her from Life Station soon. If there's a problem with the air exchange, I doubt she should be there either before or while they fix the system. I-"

Stopping abruptly, he turned to Laura. "I'm sorry, Madam President. I trust these arrangements meet with your approval?"

Roslin nodded. "Your guest quarters will be more than adequate, Admiral. Thank you for your hospitality. And if I could perhaps use your quarters for private meetings when necessary?"

Gaeta could have sworn her eyes were twinkling.

The Admiral inclined his head agreeably. "Of course."

When Adama turned back to him, Gaeta filed the exchange away in his brain and looked down quickly, ticking an item off his list. "_The Flying Star_," he continued, "has requested..."

One by one, a small myriad of problems was attended to as they made their way toward Life Station. Turning the last corner before their destination, Adama wondered why Tigh had bothered having Gaeta do this, as most of it could easily have been handled by his CEO. Then he answered the question himself. Walking beside Laura, his mind filled with fleet issues, he realised he couldn't have asked for a better welcome back.

-xxx-

"What do you mean they've left?" Kara demanded. Obviously disappointed, she looked at the closed hatch door and asked, "When did they leave?"

The marine who had told her about the President's and Admiral's departure was brief.

"Thirty minutes ago."

Kara's eyes widened. "Thirty minutes ago! Why wasn't anyone informed?"

Bewildered as to who should have been informed and why, the marine looked at her for a moment before answering stiffly, "I can't answer to that, sir. I was only called back to duty when the Admiral notified Colonel Tigh he and the President were leaving his quarters."

Knowing Adama often dismissed his own marines if Roslin's henchmen were outside, Kara bit back a comment about guarding an empty room. Protocol was protocol, and there was supposed to be a guard at the Admiral's door at all time. Determined to get answers, however, she continued to ask questions.

"So where did they go?"

Surely the marine knew something about _something_.

"I assume back to Life Station, sir. Lieutenant Gaeta met them and they appeared to be reviewing fleet business when they left." He paused. "I overheard one of Roslin's detail express surprise. Apparently Doctor Cottle hadn't ordered them to be back until 2100."

Her eyes narrowed. _They'd left to go back to Life Station more than an hour early_. Not sure what that meant, she wondered what the odds were of her sneaking in for a little visit with them in their room without Cottle knowing. The marine already forgotten, she turned and walked away.

-xxx-

Cottle stood in his makeshift lab, looked through the microscope, and made a strangled sound.

Meyes looked up. Though it was obvious just by looking at his face that everything wasn't, she asked, "Everything all right?"

Her question was met with a silence she knew better than to interrupt. Carefully, she finished putting away the reports she'd been filing. Then she sat down and waited quietly while he continued flipping through his notations.

She watched as he scribbled something on the diagnostic sheet. His face held a look that told her he was really concerned about something, so she settled in to wait until he was finished. Everyone needs a confident at some point, and months ago, they'd come to an unspoken acknowledgement that when Cottle needed to talk about something that couldn't be talked about, he talked to her. Somehow, he'd concluded (rightly so, as it happened) that with Meyes there would be no confidences broken or information leaked, just the relief of having someone to say things aloud to.

Someone who, on most days at least, he found surprisingly tolerable and reasonably intelligent.

Finally, he stood back, made some hurried notations on a sheet of paper, and then leaned heavily against his work table. "Things are a little complicated. It's the damnedest thing I've ever seen," he said. "I wouldn't have thought to even look, if it weren't for the fact I know how we cured Roslin's cancer. Damned good thing I decided to recall the blood samples to do the tests myself." He paused. _If someone had noticed this, and word had leaked out..._

"What is it?" she asked.

Without speaking, he reached for the sheet he'd been making notations on and passed it to her.

Meyes read it, then re-read it. Her eyes wide with shock, she looked up and asked, "But how-"

"Simple, really," he said in his gruff voice, "I guess it's fortunate that they have the same blood type. I'm not sure it would have happened, otherwise." He launched into a brief explanation and when he was finished, Meyes' face screwed up in disbelief.

"But to have her blood transfer into him..."

Cottle gestured, and explained, "It wasn't gallons of it or anything like that. The bullet went through her and then into him. She was lying on top of him and bled all over him, including onto his wounds. It was a simple matter of gravity at work. The cylon element in her blood just went with the flow, and when it met up with the his blood, it felt right at home and simply kept going. It makes perfect sense."

Dana shook her head. "It still sounds pretty amazing to me." Thinking of the internal damage that had been done by the cylon bullets, and of how miraculous his healing had been, she added, "I'm grateful though."

Cottle nodded. "You and me both," he said. He moved restlessly, however, and inhaled sharply on his cigarette.

Meyes expression showed curiosity. "There's more," she said, eyeing him closely.

Cottle hesitated, then confirmed her suspicions with a reluctant nod. "Maybe. I'm not sure. But in the realm of the unbelievable, it might get even better," Cottle agreed.

"How?" she asked.

He looked over at Meyes thoughtfully and suddenly really saw her. Her brow was furrowed, and she'd tried to push her hair behind her ears to keep it out of her face. There were blue-tinted shadows under her eyes, and he suddenly realised that she was pale and maybe thinner than she'd been a month or so ago.

"You eating okay?" he asked abruptly.

She looked at him in surprise, thought a moment, then said, "Don't try to change the subject. But yes, I'm eating fine. When you give me enough time to take lunch."

"Remind me to give you enough time."

"Done," she said. "Now, how does this get better?"

Still, he was hesitant to voice his suspicions. Skirting the issue, he asked, "You think having both the civilian and the military leader running around with cylon elements in their veins isn't enough?"

"I did. Until you said it got even better."

She could see him think _damn_. And still he hesitated. His reluctance obvious, he handed over the second report he had been scribbling on.

End  
Chapter 34


	35. Revelations

I'm heading off for a couple of days and thought I'd leave this behind. While I'm away, I'll be working on the last details of the next chapter and hopefully finishing the chapter after that. Cross your fingers for me - and please, leave a review for me for when I get back, if you're so inclined. I'll appreciate the welcome back .

By the way...Kara again has front and centre stage for some of this. I'm so enjoying her reaction...

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything but what's mine.

* * *

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

**-xxxxxxxxxx- **

**Chapter 35**

**Revelations**

Meyes read the report Cottle passed to her, but looked up questioningly when she didn't find anything significant.

"Look again," Jack urged.

She did as he asked and an expectant silence again filled Cottle's office. Cottle was tense - she could feel him waiting for her to find whatever it was he wanted her to find. It didn't surprise her when he lit a cigarette.

When she look up the next time, her face showed her shock.

"_Gods..." _she said softly.

His reply to her comment came embroidered with cigarette smoke. "Yeah, that was kind of my reaction, too," he said dryly. "It just goes to show you're never too old...or too busy."

"She isn't too old," she said pragmatically, "you know that." She was unwilling to touch the 'too busy'.

"True," he acknowledged, "but still..."

"You'll have to test to make sure. Those levels aren't really conclusive."

"Once again, you're absolutely right," he acknowledged. Amusement warming his eyes, he added, "But your mind went right to where mine did, didn't it?"

"Perhaps," she admitted, "but only after a little prodding, and you're definitely going to have to do the test to know for sure."

"Do I?"

"Of course you do!"

He grunted. "You going to let me hide behind you when I ask permission?"

"Oh," she said, acknowledging that slight problem. Caprican law dictated that no medical test could be done on a patient without that patient's consent - if said patient were of sound mind.

She tried to picture the President's reaction to a request for this particular test.

After a few moments of silent pondering, she said in a small voice, "So they _have_ been..." In spite of everything, she found it hard not to smile. She pursed her lips, trying to stop herself, but soon gave up and grinned broadly.

Enjoying her enjoyment and knowing this appealed to the romantic in her, Cottle's eyes twinkled at hers. "Guess so," he nodded, "though when they had the chance..."

"The planet?" she suggested.

He nodded, and put out his cigarette in an already over-flowing ashtray. Meyes hadn't been as successful as she'd liked to have been in her campaign to reduce his smoking. He took secret pride in that fact.

"That seems about right," he said. My guess is it's only a couple weeks along. They were too mad at one another before that." He paused, remembering the sound of a slap and the silence that followed it and the reasons for Meyes not allowing him to enter the room. "Maybe."

He placed the papers in a file folder and slid it into his desk drawer. Then he closed and carefully locked it. "Her hormone levels could be off for a whole bunch of reasons." He shook his head. "But gods, if she's got an embryo that managed to survive what she's been through it would have to be as stubborn as both of them combined." Shrugging, he said, "The up side, I guess, is that all things considered, a spontaneous termination is more than likely in the next few weeks. If she_ is_ pregnant, there's not much chance she'll stay that way."

There. He'd said the word aloud. _Pregnant_.

It was a word he didn't like the sound of. Not when talking about the President.

Dana didn't like the sound of something else: "Don't say that," she scolded. "If she is pregnant and were to lose it, it'd be a tragedy. This could be the best thing to happen to the fleet since our escape," she said.

Cottle frowned. "Are you crazy? We'd have a frakking circus on our hands! Look at their ages! They're too _old_ for that sort of nonsense! No one has a baby at their ages anymore! _No one_! People have more sense! And you know damned well the Quorum would demand her resignation, and who'd we have in charge then? Zarek? Adama calls him a traitor and a crook, and I have yet to hear anyone disagree! And as far as maintaining the fine line between the military and civilian..." he snorted and shook his head. "If it's true, there'll be no keeping their relationship a secret, and then we'll be totally screwed," he pronounced.

Meyes inhaled deeply and strove for patience.

"_Too old?_**" **she asked. Her voice rising slightly, she continued, "You know better than that! Women used to give birth into their sixties! Just because society has changed doesn't mean our biology has! Of course she's not too old! Besides, we can't afford thinking like that anymore. It would be a gods-given blessing if she had a child. And we wouldn't be screwed. Things are different now. We can't keep thinking in terms of having millions of people and addressing thousands of agendas. There's only a few thousand of us left - the size of a town, for frak's sake - and the top thing on our agenda is survival. _They're_ the ones ensuring that! People know that. People _trust_ in them."

Cottle wasn't convinced, but could tell there wouldn't be talking any sense into her just yet. Looking at her, he decided to take another tack: "When Adama hears this, it'll send him right back into his coma."

"Don't joke," she scolded.

"Who's joking? Maybe we should just stay quiet and let things take their course..." His mood took a mercurial change as he considered both Bill's and the President's reaction and the hullabaloo that would arise in the unlikely event his suspicions were right. He chuckled. _And he'd be the one who got to tell them_.

"Gods, I love my job. People would freak if they knew about this."

Dana frowned at him. "You are being evil."

He winked at her and smiled a very self-satisfied smile. "And people love me anyway."

In spite of herself, Meyes' lips curved upward.

-xxx-

Unaware that Kara was presently on her way, Tigh seated himself comfortably on Adama's bed to wait for Bill and the President's return. He'd read an article in the evening paper that, though amusing, caused him some concern now that he knew what he knew. So, as soon as Bill had called to let him know he was leaving for Life Station, he'd given Gaeta his orders, arranged coverage in CIC, and then scooted down to wait for them, figuring he'd better do what he could to discreetly warn them about the latest rumours.

When Adama and Roslin arrived, he was amused to see how relaxed they both looked. Hiding his grin, he eyed the two and observed genially, "Well! Your little detour seems to have agreed with you both."

"It was good to have a change of scenery," Roslin said in a gracious tone. "Life Station gets a little boring." She glanced at Bill and lifted a slender hand to move a lock of her hair behind her shoulders as she added, "Admiral Adama and I have a lot to catch up on. We needed to get a start on some of what we've missed over the past couple of weeks." Moving towards her bed, she took off her jacket and placed it on the back of a chair.

Tigh carefully controlled his features. Her hair, he remembered, had been done up when she'd left for the meeting with Valerant. She and Bill had obviously forgotten that fact, for it now hung in luxurious, tousled waves around her shoulders. He cleared his throat. "Well, the Admiral's quarters would be an excellent place for-" His voice caught as his imagination took flight, and he coughed before continuing, "-for catching up on whatever you need to, I'm sure." Now utterly convinced that everything Kara had said was true, and that the rumours printed in the paper were too close to the truth, he held out a copy of _The Evening Post_. "I just stopped by to show you this. I didn't think it would dawn on Cottle to mention what's being said out there, and it's something you might need to consider."

Handing Bill the paper, he resumed his position on Bill's bed. Comfortably swinging the foot not planted on the floor, he watched as they stood together reading the article - and enjoyed being a first-hand witness to an almost imperceptible tightening of Bill's jaw and a slow rise of colour on the President's lovely features. He watched as one finished the first page and waited with practised ease for the other to signal they were ready for the page to be turned. Bill then folded the paper to the correct page and they continued reading together. When they were finished, they shared a careful look. Saul almost slapped his thigh and chuckled. Instead, he said solemnly, "_Obviously_ it's all rumour, but it might be wise to be careful. You know how out of hand these things can become."

Bill looked at Tigh closely. There was something behind his friend's manner he didn't trust. He was convinced that from behind Saul's outwardly relaxed facade, he was being observed closely, and it made him uneasy. He also wondered when Saul had started worrying about rumours. There had been plenty in the past, and he'd never seemed to pay any attention to them. He'd certainly never mentioned them in conversation.

Or made a special trip to notify him about one.

Before he could say anything, though, Kara breezed into the room. Slightly out of breath from making it from the Admiral's quarters to Life Station in record time, she stopped in her tracks when she saw that the Colonel was also there. "Oh," she said. "Colonel Tigh. You're here."

He nodded. "I just dropped by to say hello and to share the evening paper with the President and Admiral Adama," Tigh explained.

Kara recognised the paper the Admiral still held.

"So you saw it as well," she said.

Tigh nodded. "I figured it'd be best if they knew about it," he admitted.

Kara nodded solemnly. "I thought so, too."

Feeling a little left out of the loop, Adama and Roslin both shared a frown. Kara, interested in rumours, too? Since when? What made this rumour so different from all the others?

The young woman looked over at Roslin and the Admiral. "You've read it?" Observing their relaxed stances, she frowned and said, "You don't seem very upset."

After a glance at Bill, the President opted for the obvious truth.

"They've said all this before," she said in her best, offhand manner. "And more than once," she added pointedly. "I don't see why it should cause any more concern this time than any other."

Shocked by the President's inexplicable lack of concern, Kara looked at Adama. He, too, did not seem unduly worried by the blatant insinuations made in the article, and looked back at her with a practised nonchalance.

"You agree with the President? You read the article and still think there's nothing to be concerned about?" she asked.

"I agree with her, yes," he said in a low voice. "I don't see why we should be any more concerned this time around than any of the other times."

Her disbelief showing clearly of her face, she spoke impulsively.

"You don't see why- Sir, Madame President! It's a whole different thing when what they're saying is _actually true_," she exclaimed. Spreading her hands out for emphasis, she continued, "When it's_ true_, you have to start worrying about covering up; you have to start thinking about-"

She stopped abruptly as her brain caught up with her mouth.

_Frak._

_Lee was going to kill her._

"When it's actually _what_?"

Kara looked quickly at Adama. The tone of his voice when he'd said '_what_' made her take a step backward. The look on his face made her consider taking two. She bit her lip, and began to babble in a totally un-Kara-like fashion.

_Frak, frak, frak._

"Did I say _true_?" she asked. Trying to back-peddle furiously from what she'd said and avoid the Admiral's eyes all at the same time she exclaimed, "What was I thinking? Why would I think something like that? Of course it's just another rumour." Then, not wanting them to think that she was _against_ the whole idea, she quickly added, "Not that it would be such a terrible thing if it _were_ true... I mean, if _you_ two are happy, the fleet's happy, I'm happy..." She lifted a hand, then dropped it. "...everybody's happy..." she ended weakly.

She closed her eyes. Neither Roslin nor Adama looked too happy.

_Way to jump into your own mouth with both feet, Thrace _she told herself. This was _not_ how she handled difficult situations, and definitely not close to what she'd anticipated saying. Lee was going to come up with a spectacular way of making her pay for this. She looked at Tigh, who still held his position on the Admiral's bed. Curse him for being here and breaking her momentum. Curse Adama and Roslin for being so _frakking_ unconcerned when they should be worried silly. And curse Lee because... well...just curse him. How could you warn someone about something being found out without letting them know you know about the something they need to be warned about? Taking a deep breath, she muttered _frak it _under her breath and said, "Look. I'm just concerned about what they printed, that's all. So I stopped by because I thought you might want to come up with a story about where you were that included a few other people so that the rumours die an easy death."

She took another step backward. Glancing at Tigh's shocked expression that she'd revealed what she knew, she figured she wouldn't be getting much support from him, so when no one broke the silence, she said, "Well, it's something to think about anyway, right? It never hurts to have an alibi. Putting together an alibi is _always_ a good strategy..."

Adama and Roslin continued to stare at her. Pointing to the door, Kara smiled feebly and sidled towards it. "I think maybe I should just go now. I'm sure the Colonel has some things he needs to discuss with you." She turned to make her escape.

"Stop where you are."

At the Admiral's command, she stopped and turned around slowly. His face bore far too similar a look to the one he'd carried during the past several months. It was a look far too like the one he'd had after their return from New Caprica, when he'd dumped her out of her chair after she'd had her little bout of breeding dissension among the crew and then had smart-mouthed him to boot. With foreboding, she waited for him to speak.

"I believe you owe an explanation for-"

Movement at the doorway made him stop mid-sentence.

To Kara's infinite relief, Lee stepped into the room.

A diversion - even one that might kill her later - was always good.

Adama watched his son take up position beside Kara. "What are _you_ doing here?" he asked with a frown. He didn't like the way things were adding up here: Saul sitting here waiting for them; Kara saying what she had; and now his son showing up and looking at them expectantly - this whole situation made him uncomfortable. Once again things were happening around him that he was not privy to, and he didn't trust it. That distrust made his voice curt and cold.

Lee's eyebrows rose at his abrupt reception. Looking at Kara and wondering what the hell she'd said, he answered carefully, "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd drop down to say good night." Noticing the paper his father held, he guessed the topic had been safely broached, so he added, "I see you've read it. Have you decided what you're going to do about what they said?"

Adama moved his hands in exasperation. Holding the paper up, he asked, "Since when has _anything_ printed in this rag been a cause for concern to _anyone_?"

Tigh cleared his throat. Bill had a point. But that point got lost somehow for those who now knew that there was some truth to what was being said. Rumour seemed suddenly more dangerous. He opened his mouth to speak when the arrival of two more people again temporarily stopped all conversation.

Karl and Sharon Agathon - the latter carrying a sound-asleep Hera - stepped inside the room and halted in surprise.

"Well," Tigh smiled wryly. "Guess we're _all_ here."

Bill turned to look at Laura, who now sat on the end of her bed, her arm draped over the footboard so that she faced everyone. They shared a look, then turned to their 'guests'.

"Sharon, Helo. What brings you two here?" Bill asked. His expression was closed, and though his voice was lower in deference to the sleeping child, the coolness of tone was unmistakable.

Helo looked around the room at Tigh, Kara, and Lee. Their presence here explained why he hadn't been able to find them to let them know about what he'd just read in the evening paper.

He now looked at the Admiral. Having no clue as to what caused his stony expression, he hesitated. "Sorry for interrupting, sir." Glancing briefly at the others again, he slowly drew a newspaper out from under his arm and said, "Sharon and I were just reading the paper this evening. I'm not sure how important it is, but we saw something we thought you might want to know about..."

His voice trailed off when he realised that there were already two copies of the offending paper in the room, one of which was being held by Adama himself.

"Oh," he said. "I guess you've seen it."

An uncomfortable silence descended.

Not knowing if he could trust any answer he got, but needing to ask anyway, Adama questioned, "Would one of you care to take me to what this is all about?" His tone was so mild the danger behind it was etched in sharp relief on each word.

It was no surprise to him when everyone became interested in the floor tiles.

Patience being one of his strong suits, he stood at the foot of Laura's bed and waited stoically for the somewhat pained silence to end.

End  
Chapter 35

Thanks for reading!


	36. Retreat

Here I am again. Thanks for the comments that greeted me when I got back. They were appreciated!

**Too High a Cost**  
By: Mariel

** -xxxxxxxxxx-**

**Chapter 36  
Retreat **

More aware than most of how stubbornly persistent his friend could be, Tigh heaved an inward sigh. No point in prolonging the agony. Where Bill was concerned, Saul figured he had somewhere around nine lives. Since by his estimation he'd only used six or seven of them, he raised his eyes and admitted in a gruff tone, "Damn it, Bill. We know. We just want to help."

His words were met with complete silence. Bill frowned. Laura's brow creased.

After a moment's silence, Kara looked up and nodded. "That's right, sir. We know. It's obvious you want it kept secret, and the way you've been treating each other in public, we'd never have guessed, honestly! I swear it was just an accident we found out. We thought you'd just gone off somewhere to have another argument, and when we-"

She stopped abruptly. No, better not go there. It would embarrass the Old Man if he knew what she'd seen, and she didn't want to do that. Taking a deep breath, she adroitly switched from what she'd witnessed on Kobol to, "...And when we saw that the press are getting so close to the truth too, we all got a little worried- "

Bill frowned.What she'd just said hadn't made total sense. But then, she hadn't been for a while now. "How about you tell me exactly what it is you think you know, and how, exactly, you came to know it?" he asked.

Kara nodded. What they knew would be reasonably easy to tell him. But_ how _they'd come to know it? Kara looked at the others. No one would meet her eyes. She sighed inwardly. No help there. She was glad she'd seen what she'd seen by the river. She'd found it somehow comforting to know that they frakked - and it had been good to share what she'd seen with people she knew cared about them. Now, however, some serious prevarication was going to be needed in order not to embarrass either the Old Man or Roslin, and it was obviously being left up to her to do it.

"We know about you and the President, sir, and the fact you're... umm..."

She looked at Lee and, hindered as she was by having to search for an acceptable euphemism for _frakking_, realised that saying what she knew would be harder than she'd thought.

She brightened when one came to her.

"We know about your _relationship_," she clarified. "We know you're...that you're...you know..._together_..." Her voice trailed off as her hands gestured in a 'together' kind of way. One look at Adama, and she quickly dropped her hands and continued, "That's why we're all so concerned. That paper's got things damned close to right, don't you think? We really need to look at some serious damage control here." She looked at the Old Man. Pretty sure he wouldn't be happy with _how_ they knew (and the role she'd played) she desperately hoped he'd concentrate on what they knew and leave the how of it alone.

Adama's eyes narrowed. Kara's revelation made him very uncomfortable, but he also recognised that she hadn't said _how _she knew. Briefly, he considered the idea of calling her on it. The unusual quiet desperation in her eyes, however, made him quickly think better of it. He knew her; if she were not answering the question, he was imaginative enough to guess the answer might be something he wouldn't want to hear in front of others. _Better wait_, he decided. If his curiosity ever got the better of him, (and he was sure it would) he could ask her when there was no audience. Or maybe he'd check to see if Saul knew the full story. _What _they knew, he reminded himself, was the problem he needed to deal with.

"So all of you believe that what's printed here about the President and I," he said, holding up the offending paper, "is true." He turned to the Agathons. "You as well? You think President Roslin and I-"

He couldn't bring himself to say it. It exposed too much, made him too vulnerable.

Sharon nodded, and Karl shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He glanced at his wife and said, "Some of the details may be incorrect, sir." Turning his gaze to meet the Admiral's, he said firmly, "But the general gist of what they're implying? Yes, sir. I believe it is true. And I think there's a good chance they're beginning to really believe what they're printing. If that's the case, they're going to start seriously looking for incidents that add up to what they're trying to prove. That's why you need an explanation for why you were where you were today, sir - and why you need other people to have been there with you."

Bill scanned the faces of all the people present, wondering if there were some small chance that a complete and utter denial might have an effect. A look at them and a glance at Laura's resigned expression told him not a chance. Still unwilling to admit to anything definite, however, he carefully said, "The press are no closer to the truth now than they've ever been."

The statement was too much for Lee, and he exploded. "Dad! Look at what they're saying!" Counting off on his fingers, he said, "They talk about you two arguing and the way things have been between you and the President since New Caprica - a '_lover's tiff turned into a lover's rift_' they called it; then they talk about the President following you to Kobol and make some pretty salacious comments about how you may have spent some of your time _there_; _then_ they point out that you two are not only on speaking terms again, but are - and oh, isn't _this_ a coincidence - _sharing a room here in Life Station_. Did you _read_ what they said about_ that_?" He threw his hands up. "Not closer to the truth? How can you say that? They're _sitting_ on the truth; they just don't know it!"

Sharon rocked Hera, glad the child slept like a log so long as she was being held.

Lee's father and Roslin both glanced at the paper in Bill's hand and then at Lee. Sensing an angry storm rising in Bill, Laura decided it was her turn to speak.

"Not really, Lee," she said calmly. Glancing at Bill, she decided to do what he had not, and go with the absolute truth: "In fact, there have been times their insinuations were even more accurate. It's just that you didn't know about us then, so you didn't believe it any more than anyone else did. You saw it as just a purposeful misconstruing of the facts. You're only worried now because of what you know. Just pretend you don't, and everything will be fine." Attempting to ease Lee's tension, she smiled, and said, "My goodness, if people believed that every man and woman in the fleet sharing a Life Station room at the moment was in a covert relationship, there'd be more rumours than anyone could handle!"

"But you two are _not_ just any man and woman in the fleet!" he insisted.

Tigh looked at Roslin with interest. Somewhere in what she had just said she'd pretty much admitted to what Bill had refused to. Looking at Lee, he cautioned, "The President is aware that she and your father are not just anyone. She's just saying you need to relax, son."

"And you, too, Saul," Adama reminded him with deceptive mildness. His XO had, after all, been lying in wait for them when they'd returned...

Tigh cleared his throat. "Point taken."

Relieved that it was now all more or less out in the open, Kara brightened slightly. "So what do we do now?" she asked.

_Go away_ was the first thing that came to Bill's mind.

Feeling the Admiral's tension, Laura forestalled any response from him by quickly saying, "Do nothing. Go on as usual. We'll be careful, but there's no reason the Admiral and I can't continue on as we always have."

Adama shot her a warning look.

_As they always have_?

Kara's eyes widened.

"How long _have_ you been-?" she blurted.

Bill and Laura looked at one another, then looked at her. "We've talked enough for this evening," he said sternly. Looking at the gathered group of people, he said, "You know what you know, but I'd advise you to forget it."

Saul shook his head. "Too late for that sort of nonsense. We're part of it now. We know, and you know we know. We're always going to be worried someone's going to find out the truth before you want it to be common knowledge. And _you're_ always going to be conscious of the fact we're looking out for you."

Reassured by his friend's easy acceptance that the need for secrecy was a given - but not happy at the thought of having a covert audience - Bill nodded. "Then perhaps what we need is time to adjust to your knowing," he said. His expression remote, he looked at the more junior officers and told them, "I think we've said all that needs to be said tonight. Thank you for your concern. You're dismissed." Turning to Tigh, he said, "Saul, if you could stay for a moment?"

They waited while the others left. After they were gone, Laura sighed. Rising, she moved to stand beside Bill.

"Well, I-"

Before she could continue, Kara reappeared at the door. Striding over to Adama with quick steps, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his as she hugged him tightly. "I'm happy for you, sir. Really happy!" She drew back to look at him, made a squeeing sound in her throat, then hugged him again. "I love it!" she exclaimed. "This is awesome!" Letting him go abruptly, she turned and gave Roslin a clumsy, enthusiastic hug as well. "This is such a good thing!" she smiled as she let the older woman go. "You deserve to be happy!"

Her face glowing, she backed away, adding, "Sorry! I just had to do that! It's great!" She motioned towards the corridor. "And Lee thinks so, too. He's just gotta get over his thing about you two having sex, that's all," she said before disappearing through the door.

Tigh swallowed a guffaw and watched as Bill and Laura turned to look at one another. Their expressions, he noted, showed a unique mixture of pleasure, amusement, and discomfort at Kara's congratulations. To his disappointment, there was more discomfort in Bill's face than pleasure or amusement.

Bill wasn't Bill yet. Even Kara hadn't managed to dispel the reserve that still lingered.

Laura lifted a hand, then let it drop to her side. "Whatever happened to simple?" she asked, feeling at a loss.

"Hard to have simple in a family," Tigh observed ruefully. "Families usually run on full tanks of complicated. Bill's, especially."

Bill's family was, he knew, far more complicated than most, being populated as it was by recalcitrant progeny, drunken misfits, cylons, and assorted oddballs. The addition of a president wasn't going to smooth things out any. He eyeballed his friend. In the old days, Bill would have been preparing to sit down and chew over the evening's events in some vaguely amused-and-embarrassed way.

These weren't the old days, though, and looking at Bill, he knew it wasn't going to happen.

Interrupting his thoughts, Laura Roslin asked, "Does anyone else know?" As the words left her mouth she seemed to remember something, but didn't voice whatever it was.

"No, just us," Tigh said.

"You're certain no one's said anything to anyone else?"

"The circle's small and tight," Saul promised, not admitting he'd found out only hours ago himself.

"You're certain?" she pressed.

Tigh nodded. "We're the first five."

"And hopefully the final," Bill muttered, strongly suspecting that Cottle, with his frakking, godsdamned 'in bed together' comment, made six.

Feeling it needed to be said, Saul used his most reassuring tone to say, "None of us are shocked or displeased by this." He gestured towards the door. "And Kara's obviously tickled pink. You're just going to have to deal with us watching out for you, that's all. Kara especially. This means a lot to her for some reason. I think for her, having you two together makes the 'family' more complete."

Roslin smiled at Saul's attempt to pull on Bill's paternal heart strings. She turned to look at the man standing beside her. This afternoon he'd talked about having people who cared. She supposed this had been a weird demonstration of that, and felt surprised that he did not seem more comfortable with the idea that the people close to him had demonstrated their caring in this manner.

She tilted her head and regarded him with serious eyes. "You're worried about things being so complicated now?"

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah."

Understanding, she nodded. "At least we know it's as complicated as it's going to get."

Tigh rose to his feet. Two weeks ago, Bill had been a cold, angry, remote stranger and the President a madwoman bent on having her way regardless of the cost. Now, after their near-death experience, Roslin and Bill appeared to be back on good terms and things were returning to some semblance of normal. What worried him was that he was pretty sure things weren't set back to default. Something in Bill's reaction this evening told him his friend wasn't the same man he had been before the settlement on New Caprica. Thinking of his own experiences since the election, and especially on New Caprica, he sighed. The Bill he knew might never come back. Experiences changed a man; you couldn't undo the deeds of the past, and there were some experiences you couldn't forget or set aside, no matter how you tried. He looked at his friend. The thing to do now was to simply be grateful that Bill had made it this far back from that black, bleak place he'd gone to.

It was a start, at least.

"There something I can do for you, sir?" he asked, reminding the Admiral he'd requested that he stay.

"Yes." Bill hesitated. His eyes shifting away, then turned back to his friend.

Tigh's attention heightened. Perhaps-

His face not revealing much, Bill said, "Curb their enthusiasm. We don't need people hunting us down every time a paper prints some wild speculation."

Disappointed, Tigh nodded. Something in Bill's manner had told him he'd intended to say something different but hadn't been able to bring himself to. _Time_, he told himself. _They needed time..._

"I'll do that," he promised. He hesitated, wondering if now were the time, then decided to go with it: "Bill," he said honestly, "you had me worried for a while, in more ways than one. Since New Caprica- Hell, since before then-" He stopped, then forged forward, saying, "You haven't been yourself, and I've missed you. We all have. It's good to see you not so angry anymore. And Kara's right - the news about you two is good, but," he hastily added, "it's news we'll keep to ourselves."

Allowing no time for response, he said a quick, 'good night' and, promising to take care of the kids and their enthusiasm, hestepped out of the room.

Left alone, Bill and Laura turned and stared at one another in amazement.

After a moment, Bill's expression closed, and he turned away and began to silently undo his uniform buttons. Laura's shoulders slumped slightly. _Too much too soon_, she realised. He'd asked that she trust him - had given a long lecture about the importance of trust, in fact - but now she had to find a way to help _him_ trust that this wasn't a disaster in the making, that people close to him knowing what they knew wasn't a portent of some betrayal about to happen. His ability to trust others was every bit as damaged as he thoughts hers was, he just didn't realise it. He'd need time.

Then she remembered Cottle. She still had to tell Bill about _that_...

End  
Chapter 36


	37. Conclusion

Chamalla D, this one is for you.**  
**

**Too High a Cost  
By: Mariel **

**-xxxxxxxxxx- **

**  
Chapter 37**

**Conclusion  
**

Cottle wandered into the Life Station room and looked around. Considering the day's events, he was unsurprised to find Adama sitting comfortably in bed, glasses perched on his nose, and a file in his hand. Still, the doctor's lips tightened. _Give the man a hand, and he'll take the arm right along with it, _he thought. Biting back a comment about patients working when they shouldn't, Cottle looked over to the other side of the room. His eyebrows rose. The light was off over Roslin's bed, and though there were several files placed on her side table, the President herself was nowhere in sight.

Turning back to Bill, he inclined his head towards the empty bed.

"You kill her and hide the body?"

Adama removed his glasses. Knowing what was expected, he deadpanned, "Maybe. Would you tell if I did?"

Cottle grunted. "I guess it depends on if you're caught." He glanced down at the Admiral's chart as he waited for Bill's comeback. When none came, he looked up. Bill was staring sightlessly at the foot of the bed, obviously deep in thought. Before he could question what was on his mind, however, the sound of movement drew both men's attention.

"Very funny, gentlemen," Roslin said as she stepped out of the head. She carried her suit on a hangar, and once again wore a hospital gown.

Cottle turned. "Madame President! Good to see you."

"I'm sure it is," she said as she walked by him.

Attempting to look sincere, he said, "I'd never have let him get away with it, Madame President," and adroitly fenced the look Adama threw him by putting his hands up and declaring, "She outranks you."

"Good to see you remember," Roslin said as she hung her clothes up in the locker next to her night stand. Job finished, she climbed into bed and settled herself gracefully. "It'd be a shame to see the Fleet's Chief Medical Officer tossed out an airlock as an assessory after the fact."

Preparing for one of their more acerbic conversations, Cottle raised an eyebrow. "A shame for me, anyway."

Adama interrupted them by clearing his throat and asking, "Are you here for evening rounds, Major?"

The look accompanying the question told Cottle it was time to get down to business. Taking out his stethoscope, he nodded towards Roslin. "Yes, and it's ladies first, tonight."

Laura frowned as he approached. "I'm assuming this will be one of the last times I have this pleasure?"

Cottle's eyebrows rose and drew together. "You still want to leave?" he asked. She and Bill had been alone in the Admiral's quarters a hell of a long time today - certainly too long a time not to have either killed one another or fixed things between them. Since they had returned to Life Station together and unscathed, he'd assumed maybe something he'd said to Bill over the phone had sunk in and they'd managed to patch things up. He'd also assumed that meant she might want to delay her departure.

To his surprise, however, she nodded that yes, she did still want to go.

_Damned woman never did anything she was expected to._

Placing the stethoscope against her chest, he said, "And I thought my bedside manner was beginning to win you over."

Laura wasn't in the mood. "I'm afraid not," she said cooly, "so when may I leave, Doctor?"

"Tomorrow morning soon enough?"

A little taken aback by his quick answer, her eyes widened. She glanced over at Bill, then asked, "The test results are in?"

His eyes slipped away from hers and he busied himself with finding her pulse. Keeping his gaze firmly on where his fingers held her wrist, he replied with a terse, "Yes."

Tilting her head to one side, she looked at him curiously when he didn't elaborate.

"And?" she prompted.

"And I'll discuss them with you first thing tomorrow," he said in a gruff tone. "After that, you're free to go."

Her eyes narrowed. "You could tell me now."

"I could," he agreed amiably, "but I'm working on a schedule, and sitting down to talk with you isn't on it tonight. I've got a bed calling my name, and I intend to answer as soon as possible, but before then, I have places to go and patients to see."

Being in the position to stonewall her was a soul-gratifying thing.

She opened her mouth to argue, then surprised him by closing it without speaking.

Quickly, he took advantage of her silence and stepped towards the Admiral's bed. Wondering how much better Bill was really feeling, he shone a light into his eyes and asked, "You want to spend tomorrow night in your bed, too?"

Automatically thinking of how he'd spent his afternoon, Bill stiffened at the 'too'. When no caustic remark or innuendo-filled look in Laura's direction followed, he relaxed.

"You're letting me go as well?"

There was no mistaking Adama's hopeful tone.

"You ready for me to?"

"I wouldn't be against the idea."

Cottle paused at the gruffly spoken understatement and considered his patient carefully. What he saw reassured him. In spite of his earlier opinion that Bill should remain here a few days more, today's events had shown him that he and Roslin were ready to leave, both physically and mentally. With no point in keeping them here left except his own compulsive desire to keep an eye on them, he made his decision and growled, "Why does everyone make it sound like I'm running a prison facility here? Yes, I'm 'letting you go'! I've got people who need your beds. _Sick_ people who need to get out of my corridors and into rooms." His voice quietened somewhat as he continued, "You did fine today, barring the little escapade during your talk with Valerant, and all your vitals are good now. Just so long as you don't leave the ship, it'll be okay." He took a step backward and quickly decided upon the conditions for the Admiral's departure. "I figure if you go back to light duty - no late nights; half-time in CIC; resting when you know you should; that sort of thing - you can leave. And you're to keep to your quarters as much as possible for the next three days. Have people come to you; don't go to them." He looked over at Roslin. "Sorry, Madame President, but that includes you, as well. When you need to meet, meet here on _Galactica_." Turning back to Adama before the President could respond, he told him, "Agree to all that and promise to haul your ass back here in two days for a check up, and you're free to go."

Unoffended by Jack's language, Bill nodded. "Consider it done." Looking across at Laura, he said, "_Colonial One_ is in our drydock completing repairs to its air systems. The President will be living aboard _Galactica_ until the repairs are complete, so I shouldn't have a problem with attending any meetings that come up."

Cottle's eyebrows rose. _Now wasn't that cosy. No worries about convincing the President to meet in his quarters_, he thought cynically. _Hell, now that she had a room down the hall, she'd be practically living there. Or sleeping there, at least._

Not that anyone would know, of course. He looked at the two of them. _If you didn't already know, you'd have no idea._

"Good," Cottle said abruptly. "That means she won't have a problem coming in for a check up in two days, either."

When Roslin didn't object, the doctor shrugged. "I guess all I have left to say is I'm as sorry to see you go as you are to leave."

Bill grunted, and Cottle again looked at him closely. There was something not quite right. Nothing huge, but there was something. Adama wasn't acting the way he'd expect a man to act after he'd made up with his girl and been given the go-ahead to leave Life Station. Knowing Bill as he did, however, he knew it'd be no good to press for reasons why.

"Okay, then," he said. "I guess I'll be going."

His eyes travelled to Roslin and then back to Adama. Thinking perhaps he'd been more optimistic than he should have been about their reconciliation, he moved so that his back was to the President. In a low voice, he asked, "Hey. Is everything all right?"

Adama gave him a long suffering back-off-it's-none-of-your-business look that pretty much told him what he needed to know. Yes, they'd sorted things out, but no, he wasn't talking about it. He stepped back. There had to be someone else somewhere who knew something. Remembering the small gaggle of people that had exited the Admiral's room earlier and who had left after them, he thought,_ Maybe it's time I had Tigh in for a checkup..._

Shoving his stethoscope and flashlight into his pocket, he wondered briefly about his decision to wait until tomorrow to discuss what was now running around in the Admiral's veins. Remembering the hour, he kept his resolve. The day had been long for everyone and his bed beckoned insistently. Another few hours wouldn't make much of a difference - might as well spring all the news at once, when he wasn't so tired and they were more rested.

"You two did good today," he said as he headed towards the door. "I hear the supply runs have resumed already. The whole fleet is relieved to see you both back on watch." Before he reached the door, he turned to look at Roslin.

"You eating okay?" he asked abruptly. "You should make sure you're eating properly. I don't want you back here because you're not getting the proper nutrition."

She frowned. "Of course I'm eating."

He nodded. "Good. That's good."

He eyed the two of them. Opening his mouth to speak, he paused, closed it, then changed his mind again. "For what it's worth," he said, "I'm glad you've kissed and made up. Like I said this morning, as leaders go, you're all we've got. We need you, and you need each other. The battle between you two would have ended up tearing the fleet apart. It's good to feel as though everything's getting back on track again." He cleared his throat and his voice took on its more habitual, quarrellsome tone. Gesturing at them, he said, "Now get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning and then you can get on with your lives."

Looking over at Roslin, he couldn't resist giving her a slow wink. "I'll put up the '_Do Not Disturb_' notice with the staff, so you won't be bothered. Enjoy the undisturbed peace and quiet."

As the door closed, the two heard a muffled snort. "_...A 'Do Not Disturb' notice...I'm running a godsdamned frakking motel..."_

Bill stared at the closed door. _Kissed and made up? If only it were that simple._

Reminded of the evening's events and not wanting to think about them, he picked up the file again.

-xxx-

Kara, Lee, Sharon, and Karl waited in the corridor outside Life Station. Reluctant to leave one another's company and curious about what the Admiral wanted to say to Tigh, they stood talking in low tones, occasionally glancing at the entrance in anticipation of Tigh's appearance. Sharon shifted Hera uncomfortably, and Karl stooped down and easily lifted up his sleeping daughter to rest against his chest.

When Tigh stepped out through the Life Station entrance, Kara took one look at his relaxed expression and asked, "Want to go for a drink?"

Karl had a suggestion he thought might be a wiser choice.

"Anyone eaten yet?" he asked.

Everyone turned to look at him. No one had.

Tigh placed a hand on his stomach. He'd missed dinner in order to wait for Bill. A drink would have been good, but that could wait until he hit his quarters.

"I'm game for either," he said.

Pleased that the Colonel was interested in continuing their evening, Sharon suggested, "We can try the mess. There should be something left."

"The _Evening Recap_ will be on," Kara said, referring to the fleet's nightly video news program. "I want to hear if they're saying anything new," Kara said.

No one needed to ask_ New about what_?

Lee looked at his time piece and sighed. What was another hour chopped off his rack time? "Fine. Let's go. But if there's anyone there, we'll save talking about this for another time, okay?"

Smiling, Kara led the way to the mess hall.

-xxx-

After putting some questionable-looking food on his tray, Tigh sat down with the others.

The five of them had settled at a long cafeteria table set near one corner of the large dining area. Rows of empty, wiped-down tables topped with chairs turned upside down testified to the lateness of the hour. A television set on a shelf on the wall flickered above them, the volume loud enough to be heard, and distracting enough to override the sound of their low conversation from any staff or late night stragglers arriving for a bedtime snack.

He felt their expectant gazes on him. "In response to what you're all wondering," he said quietly, "the Admiral would appreciate it if you backed off a little." Reaching for the salt shaker, he said, "He's left it up to me to keep your enthusiasm in check. I think the idea of having people watch his every move is making him nervous."

Kara bit back a comment about performance anxiety and looked at her plate. "At least they're together," she said. It was all she cared about, really. That, and making sure their affair didn't become public knowledge until the Old Man and Roslin were ready for it to.

"But will it last?" Lee asked.

Kara glared at him while Tigh nodded and said, "I think so. If they've managed to get over whatever it was that drove them so far apart, I figure it will take a hell of a lot to split them again. I've known the Admiral a long time. It takes a lot to change his mind and even more to make him change it again."

"He's not happy that we know," Kara said, her disappointment obvious.

Sharon picked up a utensil off her tray and carefully spooned some watery soup into her mouth. After swallowing, she said, "He's not happy because our knowing forces him to trust us with something he believes could be used against him. He must feel panicked. On the upside, I think he's put aside his reasons for going to Kobol. He's not regretting he's back here, not now. He's forgiven her, and things are where they should be."

Karl looked at his wife. He admired her way of looking at things, envied, sometimes, the respectful relationship she had earned for herself with Adama, and once again felt a slight resentment of her understanding of his commanding officer.

A hint of acid sharpening his tone, Lee asked, "He's not worried Roslin will turn around and betray him again?"

Surprised at Lee's question, Karl shook his head. "I think that sort of thing is over, Lee. I hope so, anyway." Remembering Roslin's face as she'd cared for Adama in the meeting room, he also remembered the Admiral's response. There was no doubting the depth of her emotion or his acceptance of it. Thinking of the comfortably united front they had just presented in their Life Station room, he added, "It's not something he's worried about. I don't think we need to worry either."

Kara looked at Sharon."Yeah, but if his reaction to our knowing is influenced by trust, we're screwed. He trusts us about as far as he can throw us."

Karl sat back. "One way or another, we've let him down and shown we _can't_ be trusted. Why would he be happy we know what we know?"

Kara shrugged. "So now it's time to prove ourselves to him." She turned to the Colonel. "He'll come around, right?" she asked.

Tigh harrumphed. "He doesn't have much choice, does he? We know, and he knows we know, and there's no taking any of it back. But it'll take a while for him to feel comfortable about it. Our job will be to keep an eye on them and make sure that nothing's found out." Remembering Bill's request, he added, "And to make sure he isn't constantly made aware of the fact we're doing it."

Lee smiled wryly. Looking at Helo, he asked, "Remember when I said all I wanted to do was return to _Galactica_ and get back to a little normalcy? There's no such thing as normalcy, is there?"

Helo smiled back. "Maybe our kind of normal isn't."

Kara looked up to the corner televison. Without thinking, she reached over and grasped the top of Lee's arm. "Shhh! Listen!"

A reporter sat behind a news desk. Old video of Adama and Roslin, standing side-by-side at a press conference, walking down a corridor together, sitting beside one another at a meeting table, and exiting a raptor together, flashed in the background. Overlaying the video in one corner were the words, "_Back At It_!"

Recognising both the news reporter and the double entendre, Tigh groaned. "Gods. Here we go." Times were changed. Whereas before he'd have snickered at all the foolishness and gone on with whatever he was doing, he was now filled with a terrible desire to go straight to Bill to let him know the latest gossip.

He knew his reasons for that impulse were twofold: He would always be concerned now that they relax too much and be found out. Another part of him, however, a more relaxed, happier, best-buddy part of him, wanted to do so just for the pleasure of seeing his friend squirm. The more he got used to the idea of Bill and Roslin, the more potential he saw for a few good-natured jokes at Bill's expense.

He sighed. This was going to take a whole handful of maturity to deal with well.

He wondered how long it'd take for his reserves to run out.

Looking at the others sitting at the table, their eyes glued to the monitor, he shook his head. It wasn't just him. Kara was positively glowing. Lee, more serious, and still adjusting, looked concerned, and the Agathons seemed content that things were as they should be. He sighed. They were all going to have to figure out what to do with what they knew, but it would not be an onerous task. Good news was rare, and they would all take pleasure in this small glimmer of hope that now sat in their midst.

-xxx-

Laura watched Bill pick up the file. She could feel his withdrawal, and thought longingly of their time on Kobol and the intensity of some of their conversations. She could remember the shock of fear that had coursed through her when she'd realised he had no plan to return to the fleet. Somehow, the gods had overridden that desire and brought him back. Brought them both back, together. It was not something to be taken lightly, and that thought focussed her resolve. Refusing to let him hide behind work, she spoke.

"Bill?"

He paused, then removed his glasses. "Yes?"

"I thought Cottle was a little odd tonight. Did you?"

"You always think Cottle is a little odd. And irritating, too."

"Yes, but he was _less_ irritating, which made him odder than usual."

Bill grunted. He had no idea what she was talking about. Fingering his glasses, he moved to put them on again. Cottle was a law unto himself and you either got along with him, or you didn't. He and the doctor had long ago carved out a workable understanding, so he was quite content to leave Laura's issues with the man strickly up to Laura to deal with.

"He wants to talk to us tomorrow. He could have given us the results tonight. Why didn't he?"

He looked over the rims of his glasses at her. "Because it can wait and he's tired and wants to go to bed?"

Her lips thinned. She recognised that kind of answer as his way of closing the conversation. It was intentionally off-putting without being totally rude, and was his way of telling her he didn't want to talk. She, however, knew the _reason_ for his not wanting to talk was that he still felt uncomfortable about people knowing their secret. In short, he wanted to withdraw. She wasn't having it. No expert in relationships, she was still willing to bet that letting him distance himself so soon after a reconciliation wouldn't be a good thing.

She held his gaze a moment. Obviously beating around the bush with small talk wasn't going to get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and spoke directly to the problem..

"You're perseverating about them knowing," she said bluntly. Grasping for something positive to follow that statement, she added, "I don't think there's a need for concern. They weren't worried about our relationship's existence or about how it might affect the fleet; they were concerned about how the fleet knowing might affect our _relationship,_ how it would affect us _personally._" As soon as the words were spoken, she realised their truth. Bolstered by that fact, she continued, "They're happy for us and were trying to protect us. That says an awful lot. They were trying to help tonight, Bill. It's good to know they've got our backs, don't you think?" She paused, then added gently, "They _care_ about us."

She sat back, mulling what she had just said in her head and wondering where it had come from. She looked at the man across from her.

It had come from him. Those were _his_ thoughts, _his_ feelings.

Or would have been, before...

Bill nodded when Laura finished speaking, but couldn't set aside his increased sense of vulnerability. Others knowing meant a loss of control and a greater chance of exposure, accidental or intentional. It meant he had to trust before he felt ready to.

He pondered for a while, then finally said, "Part of me knows it was inevitable that someone would find out, but with this so new between us again, I'd have preferred to have had a little more time to adjust, a little more time for us to figure out how it will work. I don't like the thought of always being conscious there are knowing eyes watching our every meeting, our every late-night visit, our every unlogged phone call..."

She smiled. The concerns he had were some she had herself. More used to public scrutiny than he, however, she sat up straighter and wrapped her arms around her knees. Looking across at him, she acknowledged his concern. "It's going to be uncomfortable at first," she agreed, "but they'll get bored after a while." Thinking of Kara and how outspoken she'd been about Lee's reaction to his father having sex, she admitted, "But I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that, for a while, even if we're _not_ doing something everytime we meet, I'll feel as though _they'll_ be thinking we _are_."

Bill nodded. It was true: even when they were legitimately meeting, there was every chance that, if they were meeting alone, 'the family' - or at least a few members of it - would think they were taking the opportunity to make out like crazed weasels on his sofa.

He thought of just how frequently he and the President met. A small smile curved his mouth. "At the very least, they'll be amazed at our stamina," he said.

Laura released a suprised burst of laughter. "True," she said. "And at our ages, too!" She looked at him lovingly. "So you're saying we'll survive?" she asked gently.

Fianlly allowing himself to relax, he nodded. "We will. Besides, as you said, they'll get bored, eventually."

His voice didn't sound as certain as he would have wished, but deep down he knew that no matter what his reservations were about being 'watched', nothing would change the course he and Laura were now set upon.

Laura nodded in satisfaction. He wasn't backing away anymore. Sighing, she slid her legs straight and relaxed against her pillows.

From the other side of the room, he watched her get more comfortable, then asked in a low rumble, "You going to stay there tonight?"

"You going to stay _there_?" she asked back.

Blue eyes held green. A delicious tension sprang between them. "Not if it means sleeping alone," he admitted. Who knew when they would be able to enjoy an entire night together again with no fear of interruption or detection? Cottle, damn him, had known that.

He stiffened. _Cottle._ He hadn't told Laura he was certain Jack knew there was something going on between them - and had yet to ask her what had happened to make the doctor so sure of himself.

Not noticing Bill's sudden silence, Laura said, "Then I think I'll join you. You're closer to the bathroom."

Jarred from his thoughts, he smiled. "Location, location, location."

She smiled at his nonsense and rose.

"My darling, I'd share a hard piece of ground with you anywhere, and you know it."

Warmed by the unusual endearment, Bill nodded. "Yes, I do. And you have." Remembering their last time on Kobol and the vibrantly sensual experience they had shared by the river, he said, "Someday we'll build that cabin you mentioned. We'll make sure there's moss growing by the water, just in case."

Crawling in next to his warmth, she smiled and felt the muscles of her face protest - which made her smile even more. It was good to smile again, good to train her facial muscles into a happy frame of mind rather than a worried, angry, or stressed one. She would never again take this relationship - or this man - for granted. What they shared was important. What she'd learned about herself while discovering that importance was invaluable.

They lay together for a while in silence. There was so much to think about, so much to be glad about - and so much to fear. But they were together, and the past, though not forgotten, was at least put to rest. What they held between them now took priority. United, they would get the job done; united, they would have the strength to. Tomorrow, they would talk to Cottle and then leave to resume their outside lives. Tomorrow, they would step into their positions with renewed vigor and a stronger sense of purpose. Whatever storms they sailed through, whatever trials, tests, and tribulations they faced, they would keep one another on course, and support, soothe, and spur on the other when necessary.

Bill closed his eyes. He had almost given up. The thought appalled him now. The cost of giving up, he knew, was always too high. Kara and Lee and Sharon and Karl and all the others under his command and out in the fleet deserved better from him... they deserved so much more than the endless struggle life appeared to have scripted for them. He would do his part to see that the struggle was put to rest. He tightened his hold on the woman lying in his arms. He had known on Kobol that she was humanity's best chance for survival and still believed that true. She was_ his_ best chance for survival, too. Carefully, he built his resolve. They would find Earth. Together. They would see the people they loved settle, and live as humans should live.

And he and Laura would finish out their lives...together.

He gently kissed the top of her head. Letting out a soft breath, he murmured, "Tomorrow's a big day."

She nodded and he relaxed.

After a moment's silence, she said softly. "I love you. It's not like before; it's different somehow. It's more important, bigger than it was."

He thought he understood.

"And I love you," was all he said. His arms drew her closer.

Tomorrow, he would go back to his quarters. Tomorrow he would make plans, give orders, and face the future.

As he slipped into sleep, a niggling feeling nudged him, teasing and circling and hovering as it looked for a place to settle in his chest. Allowing it to finally rest, he examined it carefully, then smiled in recognition. _Hope_. He'd almost forgotten the feeling. Savouring the word for a moment, he allowed it to spread through him... _Hope_. Humanity couldn't live without it.

As he fell softly into sleep, a dream, having found its foundation at last, begin to stir.

He smiled.

Life was good.

End 37/37  
Too High a Cost.

The story ends here. This was the note I wanted to end on. To go further, to take Bill and Laura back out into the fleet, would be like starting another beginning, and that wasn't where this story was meant to go. Before I go, though, I want to say thank you to all those who took the time to write a note and say hello. Each review was like a gift, and each one was appreciated. At times they were definitely what kept me going. It's been a long time reaching this end for a lot of you, and I appreciate your perseverance and patience! I enjoyed the conversations that sometimes arose, and valued the insights you shared (you know who you are, and I hope you know how much I liked the discussions!). To those who have listed this as a favourite story, or me as a favourite author...thanks for that, too. It's an incredible compliment and a valued one.

So, to those still reading: Thank you! I hope you continue to read AR- there are many stories still left to write and there are some truly wonderful writers out there writing them. Read, and enjoy!

Thanks again,  
Mariel


End file.
